


Blood And Roses

by red_starshine



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Forests, Games, Human/Monster Romance, Slow Burn, Spells & Enchantments, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-07-15 00:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_starshine/pseuds/red_starshine
Summary: On his seventh birthday, Jim Lake, Jr. is lured into Avalon, a land of magic ruled by the Pale Lady of the Fae.After following her son into Avalon, Doctor Barbara Lake agrees to a game created by the Pale Lady: with the help of Stricklander, one of the few creatures left in Avalon, Barbara must find her son in the Pale Lady's castle within three hours. If she wins, she and Jim can return to Arcadia, but if she loses, they both will be trapped in Avalon forever.And the Pale Lady never plays fair...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a modern-day 'Beauty and the Beast' AU, but it kind of warped into something else, although you can still see some of the BATB elements.
> 
> Title is from The Smithereens' 'Especially For You' album.

Almost everyone in the town of Arcadia Oaks knew not to go into the woods to the north of town.

Occasionally, the whispers said, someone would wander into the forest, lured by an unseen voice. The fortunate ones were dragged back while they were still within sight of Arcadia, but most were never seen again. Gates, walls and fences constructed on the boundary line of the forest vanished overnight. Iron horseshoes decorated the doors of most houses.

_'The fairies love nothing more than to steal people away into Fairyland. They'll take anyone, but what they really want are children.'_

Doctor Barbara Lake had heard the tales and thought it was nothing more than small town superstitions or something 'spooky' to draw in tourists, even if 'come to Arcadia, where your kids might be abducted by fairies!' didn't seem like something that would appeal to many vacationing families. She and her husband hadn't been residents of Arcadia Oaks when they'd bought the house, but it had been close to his job and near the hospital Barbara worked at.

When Jim was born, she'd gotten the normal baby shower gifts - blankets, strollers, a car seat, toys - and a handful of iron nails and horseshoes.

Even though she doubted that there was an evil fairy lurking in the woods bordering her house, she had still told Jim to never to go into the forest. Spraining his ankle by tripping over hidden rocks or coming across hungry wild animals were a more tangible threat than fairies. 

Her husband had left them on Jim's fifth birthday. There was never a good time for a marriage to collapse, but leaving on his son's birthday had been fairly telling on how involved he wanted to be with raising Jim going forward - not at all. Jim had cried and cried all day. 

Jim's sixth birthday had gone only slightly better than his fifth. The judgment of divorce had been signed and filed by that point, and she had tentatively reached out to her ex-husband about coming. Jim had missed him so much, could he please swing by, even for a little bit? He'd said he'd think about it. Barbara had cautioned Jim not to get his hopes up, but of course he had anyway. When the party ended without his father putting in an appearance, Jim had looked utterly crushed.

Barbara hadn't bothered to extend an invitation to her ex-husband this year.

Jim's seventh birthday party was small; just herself, Jim and Jim's friend Toby from across the street. Barbara had ordered pizza for the three of them from a local restaurant, which the two boys had quickly devoured. She had left them outside to run around while she went into the kitchen to get the cake out of the refrigerator and stick seven candles into the vanilla buttercream frosting. Barbara had just finished lighting the last candle when she heard Toby start shouting outside. 

“Jimbo? What are y...? No, wait, don't go in there! Jim!”

Birthday cake forgotten, Barbara rushed out the door into the backyard. The back of Jim's blue sweater was swallowed up by the curling tree branches. Toby was bouncing on the tips of his toes about a foot away from the line of trees, his cheeks turning red.

“James Lake Junior!” Barbara shouted sternly. He knew that when she used his full name, she was not joking around. “Get back here this instant!”

The only sound she heard was of leaves and thin branches crunching underneath Jim's new sneakers. Then silence.

A chill slid down her spine. “Jim?”

Barbara took a step towards the woods until she became aware of something tugging at the back of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to see Toby clutching at the hem of her top.

“No, don't go!” said Toby, tears starting to form in his eyes.

Barbara knelt down in the grass, resting a comforting hand on top of Toby's head. “Toby, I'm only going to get Jim out of there before he gets hurt. I'll be right back.”

Toby shook his head frantically, his eyes wide. “No, Doctor L, you don't understand! There's something evil in the woods. Nana always says nobody comes out!”

Barbara smiled, touched by Toby's concern. “Toby, I promise that I'll be okay. Just wait here for a little bit? I'll be back with Jim before you know it.”

And then she crossed into the woods.

* * *

Reasonably, Barbara knew that her son couldn't have gotten too far from her. She had seen him walk into the woods and she had gone in right after him, in exactly the same spot.

But after only a few minutes of walking she had somehow managed to completely lose sight of both the house and her son. She pulled out her cell phone, intending to call Toby's grandmother at the bingo hall, but the screen refused to turn on.

“Really?” she scoffed. "I just charged it!" Shoving the cell phone back into the pocket of her pants, she looked around, trying to see if she could place where she was.

Trees. Lots and lots of old oak trees, their gnarled branches twisting up towards a cloudless orange and purple sky.

She gasped. The sun was setting already? It'd only been early afternoon when Jim had gone into the forest. Her hand moved towards her cell phone again to check the time before she remembered it was dead.

“Jim? Where are you?” she called out again, listening for any response. “Are you okay? Jim?”

The forest was eerily silent. Not even the sound of birds or other animals disturbed it. She only heard the faint rustle of the wind moving through the leaves.

“Jim?” she called again, a note of panic slipping into her voice. “Answer me!”

Barbara saw a flash of green light out of the corner of her eye and whipped her head around. “Ji--”

She froze. A pair of shining yellow eyes was staring at her from behind a tree trunk, the pupils thin red slits. The rest of the figure was hidden behind shadows and branches.

Barbara took a cautious step away from the tree, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. A mountain lion? Maybe with the light from the setting sun hitting its eyes just right to make it look like they were glowing? But from what she could see, the body was the wrong shape, not catlike at all. And she could barely make out two long horns curving back from the sides of its head, like a gazelle's.

As she watched, the eyes slowly closed, and the figure stood up on two legs. A green hand, the spindly fingers tipped with sharp claws, curled around one of the branches. The eyes opened again, suggesting something that was at least as tall as she was.

To her shock, the creature spoke to her.

“Turn back while you can,” it growled in a gravelly voice, the remnants of an English accent barely discernible. “It's too late for your son, he belongs to the Pale Lady now, but you may be able to still escape from here.”

“What?”

“It's easy to wander in here, but it's much more difficult to find your way out.”

Barbara stared at the creature's eyes. “I don't...” she said quietly and then shook her head. She took a step towards the oak tree. “No. I'm not going back to Arcadia without Jim.”

There was a dry, amused chuckle from behind the tree. “You're either very brave or very foolish.”

Barbara glared at the creature lurking in the shadows. “Jim doesn't 'belong to the Pale Lady', whatever that means. He's my son and I'm taking him back home. Where is he? Can you show me where he is?”

The glowing eyes stared at her askance, and then the creature stepped out from behind the tree trunk and into the light.

Barbara stared at the creature open-mouthed in disbelief. 

What was most unsettling about the creature in front of her were the traces of humanity she could see in him. He stood on two legs, and was mostly human in shape – two arms, two legs and a head, although the proportions of his limbs were all just a little longer and more gaunt than a man's. The creature had silver hair on top of his head with a darker streak in the middle, which he had slicked back. His skin was completely green and appeared harder than flesh, with long grooves carved into it. Like she'd seen before, he had a pair of ivory horns above his pointed ears. Several large fangs stuck out of his mouth, visible even when his mouth was closed. He was dressed in a long cloak made of some sort of tanned animal hide, a ring of thin, delicate knives surrounding the collar. The only other clothing he wore was a loincloth wrapped around his waist that appeared to be made out of the same leathery material as his cloak.

“Do you still want me to lead you to your son?” the creature said, narrowing his eyes. “Or are you going to turn back?”

Barbara froze for a moment. She shook her head, meeting the creature's eyes. “Take me to Jim,” she said. Her voice was carefully controlled. Jim still needed her. She couldn't turn back now.

The creature gave a disappointed sigh before turning on his heel. “Then come with me,” he said gruffly, striding deeper into the woods. “I'll escort you to the Pale Lady's castle. You son is there. ”

Barbara fell into step behind him. She felt strangely light-headed and disconnected from her body, like it was moving by itself with no input from her brain, which was still stumbling over trying to accept what was happening to her.

_'I'm just following a monster to the castle of the fairy woman who's stolen my kid. No big deal.'_

“What is this place?” said Barbara when she found her voice again. “It's not Earth, right?”

“No. This is Avalon, the realm of the Pale Lady of the Fae.”

“Of course it is.” Barbara gave a tired sigh and then realized she hadn't introduced herself. “Oh, by the way, my name's Bar--”

“Stop!” shouted the creature, spinning back to face her. He was nearly wild-eyed with panic. “Don't tell me!”

“Uh, all right?” said Barbara, deeply confused. “Is there a reason why?”

The creature glanced at her in sympathy. “In Avalon, your true name has power over you. Guard it carefully,” he warned. “You shouldn't give your true name to _anyone_ here - not to me and especially not to the Pale Lady.”

“So I have to come up with an alias to give out?”

The creature nodded. “I'd avoid nicknames, middle names, occupations and anything else tied to your identity.”

Barbara chewed at her lip in thought. “Brooke. My best friend growing up was named Brooke Graham. She won't mind me borrowing it for a while. I guess I'm Brooke while I'm here.”

“Brooke,” said the creature. “Delighted to meet you.” He reached out a hand towards her. Thinking he wanted to shake it, Barbara placed her hand in his. To her surprise, the creature instead smoothly raised her hand to his mouth, lightly kissing the back of it. He was careful to not scrape his exposed fangs over the thin skin of her hand.

“Uh, you too.” Barbara felt her cheeks flush red again as the creature let go of her hand. His lips had felt as hard and cool as stone against her skin. She paused, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “So what should I call you?”

The creature hesitated before responding. “Stricklander.”

* * *

Where before there had only been trees and grass, a large stone archway now stood in front of them. The grey stone was crumbling from age and neglect, green ivy crawling across it.

Through the archway, she could see a medieval castle in the distance which appeared to be constructed of solid gold blocks, carefully polished to a bright sheen. Vines of pale yellow climbing roses grew against the walls, the petals of every bloom flawless. The castle was surrounded by an orchard of large apple trees, all of them bearing large red apples that sparkled like rubies in the light of the setting sun. It was undoubtably beautiful, but looked far too perfect to be real and veered down into 'unsettling'. Her mind unhelpfully supplied 'like something out of a fairy tale'.

She had apparently wandered into an actual fairy tale, except it was one of the dark ones where evil fairies kidnapped children and someone usually got a limb cut off or had to dance in red-hot iron shoes.

Barbara stared at the castle. “My son's inside there?”

Stricklander nodded, but stopped her before she could walk through the archway. “I should warn you, it may seem like only hours to you but it's been days here since your son came to the Pale Lady. She has already started to change him.”

Ice water washed through her veins. “Hold on. Change him how?” said Barbara, her voice cracking. She stared up at Stricklander in dismay. “What exactly did she do to him?”

“The Pale Lady transforms the humans she brings to Avalon,” said Stricklander, his guttural voice strangely soft. “Your child is becoming a troll. The changes will be... _noticeable_ when you see him with her.”

A wave of blinding, all-encompassing anger surged through Barbara. Just the thought of her son being twisted by fairy magic into something else, something not human, made her want to scream. “I'm going to kick her pasty fairy-tale butt back to the dark ages,” she seethed.

“The Pale Lady of the Fae is pure magic in the form of a woman,” said Stricklander. “That fight wouldn't end in your favour, I'm afraid.”

“Hey, I do have an orange belt in Krav Maga, y'know,” protested Barbara. She huffed and then closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. The Pale Lady was inside the castle, and so was her son. Flying into a mindless rage at the Pale Lady and trying to punch her wouldn't get Jim out of Avalon – she needed to keep her mind clear. “Anything else I should know about the Pale Lady before I go in?” she said as she opened her eyes and stared at the darkened enterance leading into the heart of the castle.

“The Pale Lady is weak against iron. She won't kill you as long as she finds you amusing. And she's very good at both breaking her promises and bending the truth to make extravagant-sounding vows that ultimately mean nothing.”

“I see, just like my ex-husband,” said Barbara in an half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. “Got it.”

Stricklander let out an amused chuckle. After a moment of silence he turned to look at her “Are you ready?”

Barbara started to nod and then shook her head, feeling her chest tighten. “Not really. But if Jim's in there, I'm going to bring him home.”


	2. Chapter 2

While the outside of the castle had been shining gold, the inside was dark, cold and smelled of mold. The few pieces of furniture and tapestries on display were all coated underneath a thick layer of cobwebs and dust. Underneath a tall vaulted archway supported by four massive dark granite columns was an enormous black marble staircase leading up to the second floor of the castle.

As Stricklander quickly ascended the staircase, Barbara saw that there were miniature wailing faces sculpted into the scrollwork decorating the railing, their eyes scrunched shut and their mouths open. Tearing her eyes away from the faces, she avoided looking at the railing as she followed Stricklander.

Statues of horned monsters lined the long hall leading to the Pale Lady's throne room. Some of the statues were missing their limbs, and it took her a moment to realize the few candle sconces high above their heads had been fashioned from the missing statue arms, candle wax dripping from their claws.

“Creepy,” Barbara muttered to herself.

She paused in front of a large statue, posed crouching with one hand on the ground, the other shielding its face. The look of abject fear visible in the statue's six blank eyes made her throat go dry. “Did...these statues, did they used to be alive?” she said, her voice trembling. 

Stricklander's lips thinned, confirming her suspicions. “When trolls die, their bodies turn to stone. These are the one who displeased the Pale Lady,” he said quietly.

Barbara gently pressed her hand against the hand of the troll statue covering its many eyes. Up close, she could see where an additional set of arms had been snapped off from its torso, underneath the ones still left. "Were they like my son?"

"Were they human once, do you mean?" Stricklander shook his head. "These are Gumm-Gumms, followers of the Pale Lady in a long-ago war against the rest of trollkind. After her general, Gunmar the Black, was killed in battle, the Pale Lady retreated to Avalon with what remained of their army."

Barbara looked at the troll statues on both sides of the long hall as she slowly began to proceed down the hall. There were rows of stone trolls behind the ones she had first noticed.  "How much of her army's still alive ?"

"Only a handful of trolls and changelings."

As they approached the entrance to the throne room, Barbara heard a gentle melody drifting out into the hallway, a sorrowful song strummed out on strings. 

Barbara and Stricklander looked at each other for a moment. Raising her chin and squaring her shoulders, Barbara walked into the Pale Lady's throne room next to Stricklander.

Tattered banners of green, white and gold were strewn from the domed ceiling, encircling a large chandelier hanging in the center of the room. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

A woman sat in a golden throne in the center of the room, surrounding by tall white candles. Waves of thick platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her dark-green velvet gown and loops of delicate golden chains wrapped around her throat. She played a wooden lute, her delicate fingers plucking at the strings. The woman's pallid skin was flawless and almost seemed to glow. Perched on top of her head was an ornate golden headdress. Her red lips curled up at the sight of Barbara and Stricklander entering the throne room, her green eyes shining like emeralds.

The Pale Lady.

Sitting at the Pale Lady's feet, almost hidden by the folds of her skirt, was Jim. Barbara's heart twisted at the sight of her son attentively listening to the Pale Lady play. He was still in the blue sweater and jeans he'd been wearing when he'd disappeared into the woods, but his skin had started to turn a mottled shade of pale blue, and his ears were becoming longer and pointed. A small white fang poked out of each side of his mouth, and the tips of two dark-grey horns were barely visible in the middle of his black hair.

He almost looked like a younger, smaller Stricklander, Barbara realized as the Pale Lady stopped playing.

Stricklander fell to one knee in front of the Pale Lady's ornate throne, bowing his head before her. “Pale Lady, my eldritch queen, I bring you the mortal mother of James Lake, Junior.”

“Rise, changeling,” said the Pale Lady dismissively, waving her hand.

Stricklander stood up, not meeting Barbara's questioning gaze.

The Pale Lady stared down at them. A small amused smile played at her lips. "So you're the human who came to Avalon without being called," she said to Barbara, setting aside her lute. "Tell me, why are you here? Why did you cross over into my land?"

“You stole my son away from me,” Barbara said flatly. “I want him back.”

“Oh, but he is not your son anymore. He is mine,” said the Pale Lady as if she was explaining something obvious. “I sent a spell across the Veil and he followed it back to me – my little prince. Avalon is his home, today and always. ”

Ignoring the Pale Lady, Barbara kneeled down in front of her son, placing her hands on his shoulders. She could feel through the sweater that his skin was starting to turn to stone. “Jim, kiddo, look at me,” she said pleadingly. “I'm here to take you back home to Arcadia.”

Jim stared up at her, his eyes wide.

Barbara froze, every muscle in her body suddenly paralyzed. There wasn't even a flicker of recognition in her son's eyes. "Jim?"

With a wordless cry, he shrank back from her, shrugging off her hands. He scrambled behind the voluminous skirt of the Pale Lady's gown, apparently trying to hide from her.

Her son didn't know who she was. Something cold grabbed at Barbara's chest, threatening to rip its way up her throat. She brought her hands up to her mouth as the Pale Lady laughed in delight.

"Ah, I can see it in your eyes, you know," the Pale Lady said to Barbara. "Your despair, your anger. Oh, mortals have such delightfully unpredictable and volatile emotions. What will you do now that your darling little child can't remember his other life, I wonder?”

There had to be something Barbara could do, some other way to free Jim from the Pale Lady and the strange enchantment she'd put him under. Barbara hadn't come this far into Avalon to find her son only to let him slip through her fingers. She knew there wouldn't be another chance to save Jim from the Pale Lady.

_'She won't kill you as long as she finds you amusing.'_

There was something she could do that would appeal to the Pale Lady. Barbara swallowed. "Do you want to play a game?" she said.

The Pale Lady went very still, her eyes wide. "A game?" she repeated, clearly intrigued. “You are turning out to be full of surprises, weak human. What kind of game are you proposing?”

“That's up to you.” Barbara stared up at her, feeling her stomach tighten. "But if I win, you turn Jim back to the way he was before you lured him here and let us go home to Arcadia. You never come after me or my family again."

“And when you lose?” The Pale Lady gave her a scornful smile.

“Then...” She shut his eyes for a moment, a pained expression on her face. "My son and I stay in Avalon willingly, for as long as you want."

After a moment of tense silence, the Pale Lady laughed again. It was a hollow, joyless sound that chilled Barbara to the bone. "If you are in Avalon, you are already here for as long as I want. But no mortal had ever offered to play a game against me." She smiled again, and the sight of it chilled Barbara to the bone. "If I am to seriously consider your offer, at the very least you should tell me your name."

The words ' _Barbara Lake, my Lady_ ' were on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed them back. “With all due respect, you haven't earned my name yet,” she said. “You only get that if I lose.”

“I see,” drawled the Pale Lady with a scowl. She turned to Stricklander. “Changeling, did the mortal woman tell you her name?”

Stricklander glared at her sullenly.

The Pale Lady heaved a heavy sigh. "Why must you insist on being difficult?" She made a tight fist with one hand, her fingers ablaze with golden magic. " _Her name, changeling_."

Stricklander shuddered in pain, his yellow eyes bulging. One of his hands clawed ineffectually at his neck. “Brooke Graham, my Lady,” gasped Stricklander, his voice a thin hiss.

The Pale Lady grinned in triumph as the light in her hand dissipated. "There. Was that so hard?" 

Barbara realized with a start that she'd have to play along, since Stricklander had apparently just betrayed her. Pretending to be shocked, Barbara loudly gasped in horror and hoped it didn't sound as stilted to the Pale Lady as it did to her own ears. “Stricklander?”

“I--” Stricklander looked up at her and then stared down at the floor. He was a much better actor than she was.

“You trusted the wrong troll, foolish human. My changelings were _made_ to obey me,” purred the Pale Lady. "Stricklander's loyalty to me is absolute."

' _Maybe not as much as you think_ ,' thought Barbara. He'd tried to persuade her to turn back in the forest, and had stopped her from revealing her actual name to him. Clearly the Pale Lady had some kind of hold over him, but he seemed to try his hardest to subvert her orders and wishes.

“However,” the Pale Lady continued. “I would like to hear more about this proposed game of yours.”

Barbara sighed, looking away from the Pale Lady. “So you do want to play.”

“Perhaps.” said the Pale Lady, standing up. She floated above the floor, the long train of her gown dragging behind her on the black marble floor.

“I have a few conditions,” said Barbara.

“Such as?”

“It has to be fair,” said Barbara. “I mean, a game that's fixed is boring. There has to be an equal chance both sides can win for it to be _really_ exciting.”

The Pale Lady tilted her head slightly, as if the concept of not cheating her way to victory was a new and curious idea to her. “Interesting. I agree.”

“And I'm not a fairy and I don't know much about magic. I think we can both agree that you're starting this with a big advantage over me. So to make it even, I need a guide, someone who knows about magic or whatever it is I might run into.”

“Stricklander,” said the Pale Lady immediately, jabbing a finger at the changeling. “You are to assist the human.”

“What?” said Barbara flatly, trying to sound upset. She'd purposefully tried to word her request to be vague, hoping that the Pale Lady would use its ambiguity to select him in an attempt to be cruel. She would've suggested him outright, but that wouldn't have made sense after Stricklander's 'betrayal' of her.

Barbara might not be able to trust Stricklander either, but at least he showed signs that he wasn't fully under the Pale Lady's control. She suspected that was the best she could ask for in Avalon.

“The only assistance you receive during this game shall come from Stricklander,” said the Pale Lady, her voice low. “Or you will receive no help at all.”

Barbara sighed, appearing to give in. “OK, but you can't use Stricklander to spy on me or impede my progress. So he has no 'absolute loyalty' to you during the game.”

The Pale Lady grimaced as if she'd taken a bite of something bitter. “Agreed.”

Now came the question Barbara was dreading. “What kind of game do you want to play?” she said with trepidation. Somehow, she didn't think the Pale Lady would suggest a game of checkers or Go Fish.

“You think yourself a clever mortal, I suppose,” said the Pale Lady. “Here is your task: I will put your son inside one of the castle's many chambers. Find your son within four hours or you shall lose.”

“Wait, four hours? Your castle is huge. That's not enough time!”

“Three hours,” said the Pale Lady with a frown. "If you complain again, I will reduce it further."

Barbara glared up at her.

“There. If you have no further conditions, do we have an agreement, mortal?” said the Pale Lady.

“We do,” said Barbara. 

“Good,” said the Pale Lady, and then she and Jim disappeared in a whirl of golden light, leaving Barbara and Stricklander alone in the throne room.

Barbara let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, letting her shoulders relax. She turned to Stricklander. “How badly did that go?”

Stricklander shrugged, the knives around his collar tinkling. “You're still alive, so I believe you did all right,” he said. “But what I said before's still true – you cannot trust her to keep any of her promises. Even if you find your son, I doubt she'll let you and Jim return to Arcadia.”

“I know,” said Barbara with a sigh. “Maybe this'll all be for nothing, but I have to at least _try_.” She glanced at Stricklander's neck, which was apparently uninjured. "Hey, are you okay? It looked like she tried to Force choke you before."

Stricklander nodded, self-consciously rubbing at his throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by another blaze of brilliant gold light. The Pale Lady floated above them, alone. Her green eyes glowed in amusement.

“The game begins now,” she announced, her voice echoing in the throne room, and then she vanished.

Elsewhere in the castle a bell began to toll, loud and deep enough for Barbara to feel the vibrations inside her chest. Covering her ears, she counted three thunderous chimes.

When the last chime had faded, the sudden silence in the castle suddenly felt smothering. “I'm about to play Hide and Seek to save my troll son from a wicked fairy,” said Barbara, running her shaking fingers nervously through her hair. “Oh, all those parenting books I read when I was pregnant with Jim never mentioned anything like this.”

“Brooke,” said Stricklander quietly. “We should get started.” He began to lead her out of the throne room and into the dark hall decorated with the defaced corpse-statues of the Pale Lady's troll followers.

Barbara closed her eyes and let out a breath. Keeping calm in an emergency was a skill she'd honed as a doctor, being able to keep a cool head when lives depended on her. While Jim was her son, not her patient, she had to keep her head straight or she'd lose whatever slim chance she had of winning the game and rescuing Jim.

“Okay,” she said evenly, meeting Stricklander's eyes. “Where should we look first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tosses 'Return to Oz' onto the influence pile*
> 
>  
> 
> ~~RIP Dictatious.~~


	3. Chapter 3

One of the issues with searching through all the rooms of the Pale Lady's castle was that the rooms had a tendency to move around. The same door might lead to a completely different room five minutes later. 

“ _How_?” said Barbara incredulously. She had a vision of the wooden building blocks Jim had played with as a toddler, moving the pieces around to form new structures.

“Avalon exists according to the Pale Lady's whims,” said Stricklander, looking almost apologetic. “Sense or logic or reason have no place here. Without her, this land would fall apart.”

“Great,” Barbara groaned, raising her glasses from her face to pinch the bridge of her nose. “So it's a little more complicated that just opening doors.”

“Unfortunately. You didn't think she'd give you an _easy_ task, did you?”

Barbara sighed again. “Would have been nice,” she muttered.

The castle's dungeon was one of the few places that stayed where it was supposed to, so it was the first place Stricklander suggested to look. Like the hall leading to the throne room, the stairwell to the dungeon was lit by candles clutched in the severed hands of trolls. Stricklander reached up to one of the stone hands above them and took its candle, passing it to Barbara. As they began to walk down the steps to the dungeon, she looked at Stricklander.

“Stricklander, you don't have to do this,” said Barbara, breaking the silence. "I know you helping me was part of the deal, but I..." She sighed. "I wasn't expecting you to look for Jim with me for hours. You've already helped me enough." 

Stricklander shook his head. "Even if I wasn't involved with your bargain, I would still be here."

"Why?" said Barbara. "What do you get if I win?"

"Nothing. But I have no love for the Pale Lady or her Gumm-Gumms," said Stricklander. He plucked a few knives from the collar of his cloak. “Besides, we're going to be meeting one in a moment.”

“I thought she killed all the Gumm-Gumms.”

“Not all of them. She's had Gunmar's son, Bular, locked up in the dungeon for years – he kept slaughtering trolls and changelings, and only _she's_ allowed to do that.”

“How is Bular still alive?” said Barbara. 

Stricklander snorted. “Because he's too spiteful to just roll over and die."

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Dark cells lined the walls, most of them empty. A few held statues of trolls, petrified and forgotten. Other just held piles of stone rubble, a cracked face or hand sometimes visible.

Barbara raised the candle and peered into each cell as they walked past, looking for any sign of her son. “Jim?”

There was a low growl from a large cell, and an enormous pair of glowing eyes glared back at herfrom behind the locked grate. There was a cool puff of air against her face that stank of mildew and rot. Barbara could only make out part of the dark horns framing his face and the row of sharp fangs jutting from his mouth. Thick metal chains wrapped across his chest, pinned in place by axes and chipped swords stuck into his back, reflected the light from her candle. Cracks ran along his body, his dark blue skin marbled with grey. He looked like he might fall apart at any moment.

“Impure,” growled the troll with a snort, glaring at Stricklander.

“Bular,” said Stricklander, raising one of his knives warningly.

The troll's red eyes swiveled to stare at Barbara. “And a fleshbag.”

“Have you seen my son?” said Barbara, cautiously stepping closer to the grate. "He's small, and blue, and has tiny little horns."

Bular gave a low chuckle, slowly moving towards the metal grate locking him into the cell. “Fleshling, why would I help you when I could simply eat you instead?”

With a loud growl, he head-butted the grate. The grate crumpled with a screech of metal, flying off its hinges.

Barbara was directly in its path.

Stricklander took her arm and pulled her out of the way, protectively wrapping his arms around her. Barbara let out a yelp, dropping the candle, as the grate fell only a few inches away from them. 

"Brooke, are you all rig--" said Stricklander, looking down at her with worry.

Barbara pointed towards Bular, charging towards the two of them. "Incoming!"

Letting go of Barbara, Stricklander quickly skittered away from her. "Bular, how long has it been since you've eaten a changeling? Years?" he called, throwing his thin knives at the larger troll.

Bular roared in fury as the knives pierced his skin, veering away from Barbara to chase after Stricklander instead. “Changelings were always poor replacements for pure-blooded trolls!” Bular shouted.

“Remind me, how many of those 'pure-blooded' trolls did you kill again, Bular?” Stricklander taunted as he deftly dodged out of the way of Bular’s horns.

Bular snorted and bared his fangs at Stricklander, following the glowing light of the changeling’s eyes. “Changelings are a mockery of trollkind! The Lady let real trolls die out in Avalon because of her sick fascination with her fleshbags-turned-trolls!”

“Do you think I _wanted_ to be abducted and turned into a monster?” countered Stricklander, drawing several new knives from his collar.

”What?” said Barbara. Her ears was still ringing from Bular's roars, but she knew she'd heard him correctly.

Changelings weren't just trolls - they were humans that the Pale Lady had stolen from Earth and changed into trolls, like her son. And like Stricklander.

“Oh, you didn’t let the fleshling in on your secret, impure?” chuckled Bular. “Then you also didn't tell her who accompanies the mesmerized little fleshlings from the woods to the Pale Lady so she can play the doting mother until she grows tired of them.”

Barbara sucked in a breath. Her heart felt like it was in a vice. She tried to remember that she had known Stricklander might not be worthy of her trust, she barely knew anything about him, but this feeling still felt too much like betrayal to her.

Stricklander threw another volley of knives at the troll's back. There was the noise of stone cracking, and a large chunk of grey, lifeless rock fell off of Bular's spine, the throwing knives still embedded in it.

Bular's response was a loud, guttaral growl. He grabbed Stricklander's cloak and lifted him off the stone floor.

Stricklander growled. A green light surrounded him and he suddenly dropped from Bular's claws. His cloak had disappeared, replaced by a large pair of leathery wings sprouting from his back. He tried to fly away from Bular, only for the larger troll to grab onto his ankle and swing him against the stone wall of the dungeon.

There was a horrible crack as Stricklander collided with the wall. He dangled limply from Bular's hand, eyes closed.

Laughing, Bular dropped Stricklander to the dungeon's floor. “One less impure in Avalon.”

Barbara'a eyes widened. The sight of him lying motionless in front of Bular's feet sent a jolt of fear running through her body. Not for herself, but for Stricklander. 

She ran for the throwing knives sticking out of the rock, grabbing one in each hand. Without thinking, she ran towards Bular's back, driving the knives into the hole Stricklander had made as hard as she could, feeling the knives sink in until her fists were touching his cold skin. Large cracks formed around the knives, spreading out across his back and wrapping around his side. Barbara yanked the knives out and ran to Stricklander.

His eyes wide, Bular gave a dry-sounding wheeze. Bular frantically tried to clutch at his wound in an attempt to stop the cracks from worsening. With each movement he made, the wounds grew larger and deeper, cutting down across his abdomen and up towards his neck. He managed to wrench one of the knives out, only for a stream of dust and pebbles to flow from the wound.

The massive troll was quickly turning the same lifeless grey as the other statutes, growing out from his wounds and leeching the color from his shoulders and arms. He fell to his knees, his eyes burning in rage as he stared at Barbara and Stricklander.

As his neck and legs began to crack and petrify, Bular gave one final roar, spittle flying from his mouth. His body shattered, collapsing on itself in a cloud of dust and broken grey rock.

Barbara stared at the pile of rubble that had once been Bular. Beside her, Stricklander moaned, rolling onto his stomach so he wasn't awkwardly pinning one wing under his body. Green light covered him with a bright flash. When it faded, his wings were gone, replaced by his cloak.

“Stricklander, are you OK? He didn't give you a concussion, did he?” said Barbara, her emergency training taking over. She gently lifted his hands from his side and examined where he had hit the wall. The skin on his chest was slightly darker than the rest of him, probably the beginnings of a nasty bruise if his stone-like skin was anything like human skin. She didn't see any outward signs of an obvious injury, no breaks or cracks or blood, but she had no idea how changeling physiology differed from human. “Can you breathe all right?” She pressed her ear against Stricklander's chest to listen to his breathing.

“I'm all right,” Stricklander said, his voice rumbling into her ear. “Your concern is touching but I'm a fair bit harder to kill than a normal human.”

Barbara hesitated for a moment. She pulled herself away from his chest, looking up at his face. His eyes were staring down at the floor, pointedly not meeting hers. “But you are human,” she said.

Stricklander sighed and finally looked at her, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light of the dungeon. “I was once. But that was a very, very long time ago."

"And now you...patrol the forest? Take the people the Pale Lady enchants to her?"

Stricklander's eyes flicked to her and he gave a slow nod. "Like your son. Like the others who came before your son. My duty in Avalon is to bring all the humans who cross over into Avalon to the Pale Lady. The other children, once she grew bored of them, they were turned to stone, like all the other trolls."

Barbara swallowed thickly. She still wasn't sure how much she trusted him, but she _had_ just killed a troll to save him. "Do you know how long you've been in Avalon?"

"Sometimes I wish I didn't, but yes. I was taken in 1978.”

She stared openmouthed at Stricklander with undisguised horror. “You've been trapped in Avalon since the _1970s_?” She couldn't imagine spending decades imprisoned in this place.

The look he gave her was almost feral, a reminder of how much the years spent in Avalon had changed him. “She pulled me through to Avalon on my walk from the university to my flat.”

“Wait. You remember your life before Avalon?” said Barbara, a note of hopefulness in her voice.

“Most of it,” admitted Stricklander. "It can be hard to remember, sometimes. From my understanding it's only been a few decades on Earth, but here it's been several lifetimes. I've lived as a changeling for much longer than the forty-odd years I did as a human."

“But if you remember that, why doesn't Jim?” said Barbara. The sight of her son staring at her in blank confusion would haunt her for a long time.

“Children enchanted by the Pale Lady seem to lose themselves to her magic easier than adults do. I don't know why,” said Stricklander. “The Pale Lady was still strong enough to cross the Veil herself when she took me. Now she can only enchant people close to the border into coming to her.”

“So she's not as strong as she used to be?” said Barbara, trying to keep the hope she felt from leaking into her voice.

“The Pale Lady's magic is dwindling fast, but even weak Fae magic is enough to handily defeat trolls and humans," said Stricklander. "Or trolls who used to be human.”

Barbara glanced sidelong at Stricklander, still digesting all of the information he'd told her. "Stricklander, who are you really?"

"Walter Strickler, professor of history at University College London, at your service."

Barbara pressed her hand against her temple, unconsciously brushing a strand of hair out of her face. One of the first things Stricklander - _Walter_ \- had told her was that names had power in Avalon, and he'd given his to her without hesitation. She sighed, closing her eyes. “Doctor Barbara Lake,” she said softly. “It's nice to meet you, Walt.”

“What?” said Walter. "Barba--Brooke, no, you..."

She held up a hand. “Stop. I know you said not to give you my real name, but look, either Jim and I get out of Avalon or we don't.” She looked up at Stricklander. “And I know it's a risk, I...” She trailed off, letting her hand fall back into her lap. "I think I trust you, Walt. Just...please, don't hide anything else like that from me."

“Barbara,” said Stricklander, his face softening. He pronounced it differently than most people she knew did, stretching it out into three syllables. The changeling stood up and offered her his clawed hand. She took it, and he helped pull her up to her feet.

Barbara brushed grey dust from the shoulder of Walter's cloak. "Do you have any other dirty little secrets I should know about?"

Walter paused, a thoughtful look on his face, before he responded with the last thing Barbara was expecting: "I own four Billy Joel albums."

Barbara laughed. "Wait, 'Piano Man' Billy Joel? And here I thought stuffy intellectuals only listened to opera and classical music."

"Which is why it's a secret," said Walter. "The others in my department didn't listen to anything written before the turn of the century."

Still holding onto Walter's hand, Barbara surveyed the rest of the cells and the pile of Bular's broken stone remains in front of them. No small blue face peered back at her from inside any of the cells.

“I don't think my son is down here,” she said, shoulders slumping down. “Where should we look next?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The fact that Strickler in the show is apparently a fan of Billy Joel delights me to no end.](https://magic-and-moonlit-wings.tumblr.com/post/178650273962/its-as-a-great-poet-once-wrote-do-whats-good)


	4. Chapter 4

"I would try the castle library," said Walter, leading her back up the stairs from the dungeon. "She often spends hours there with the children she takes."

Barbara nodded, walking next to him. She glanced down at the two throwing knives she'd used to stab Bular sticking out of the pockets of her pants. "Er, Walter, do you want these back?" She pulled them out, offering them to him.

Walter shook his head. "You should hold onto them. I've got more than enough knives," he said, gesturing to his collar. "Besides, they're far deadlier in your hands than in mine, Barbara, slayer of Bular," he added with a smirk.

Barbara felt a faint blush creep over her cheeks as she placed the knives back into her pocket. She didn't feel guilty about killing Bular, exactly - if she'd done nothing, both of them would probably have been Bular's lunch - but as a doctor, she'd taken an oath to heal and preserve life. Stabbing someone who'd already been injured left a bad taste in her mouth, even if it had been necessary to save Walter and herself.

She didn't regret killing Bular, but she wished there had been another, less lethal, way to end their confrontation.

Once they reached the first floor of the castle, Walter guided her to a long hallway lined with tall doors. Thankfully, no petrified trolls lined the corridor.

"The library is behind of one of these doors," he said with a grimace. "Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing which one."

Barbara yanked open the closest door. Rows and rows of nesting pigeons stared back at her, cooing softly. "Not this one," she said as she closed the door. “So what kind of books does a fairy keep in her library?” said Barbara, opening the next door to reveal a room full of broken mirrors covered in cobwebs. “Romance novels, thrillers, mysteries, non-fiction?”

“Spellbooks, grimoires and history texts, mostly. A few ancient scrolls of power.” Walter opened the door next to her. Inside was a long dining table supported by the mismatched stone legs of four different trolls. In the center of the table, as some kind of gruesome centerpiece, was a severed and petrified troll head, its mouth open in a roar.

Barbara sighed, moving to the next door. “Is it usually this hard to get to the library?” The next room held nothing but stacks and stacks of very old china vases and pitchers on shelves. No sign of Jim.

“Sometimes. I wouldn't be surprised if the Pale Lady is purposefully hiding it from us,” grumbled Walter.

Barbara nodded, distracted. Something had been worrying her from the walk up the dungeon and down the hallway, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. It nagged at her like an itchy insect bite, until she finally figured out.

She stopped. “Walt, I-I only bargained for me and Jim to go home if we win.”

“Yes, I remember. I _was_ there when you were making that deal with the Lady," Walter said.

Barbara rubbed at her arm nervously. Guilt gnawed at her stomach. “But I didn't include you, or anyone else that she turned into a troll.”

Walter shrugged, the knives around his neck jangling. “You didn't know. You thought I was a creature of Avalon – a fair assumption to make.”

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” said Barbara. “I could've asked her to turn you back and let you go too.”

Walter sighed, stopping in the middle of the hall. “Barbara, please don't worry about that. Ultimately, what you did or didn't agree to will not matter.”

“Don't say it's because I'm not going to find my son,” said Barbara with a wry smile. “You're supposed to be on my side, remember? We're in this together.” She poked her elbow into Walter's side.

Walter's eyes widened in surprise. “What? No, that isn't it. I believe that we stand an excellent chance of finding Jim. But you have to remember what I said earlier - the Pale Lady will not keep her promises if you win. She's a prideful creature and she won't allow herself to be bested, especially if that defeat comes from a 'lowly human'." He sighed heavily, looking away from her. "If you do find your son, I'm afraid she'd most likely send one of the trolls still loyal to her to kill you.”

Barbara felt her heart begin to sink. She had only bargained for protection from the Pale Lady herself, not from a troll acting on her orders. “Then what you're saying is...”

Walter looked at her, his face solemn. “You can't just defeat her in this game. The only way you and your son will escape the Pale Lady is if she dies.”

Barbara stared at him. “You're joking, right? She's such a sore loser that she'd seriously _die_  before admitting I beat her?” She heard a high-pitched noise, almost like a buzzing insect, near her head. She waved her hand in front of her face to chase it away. “Ugh.”

“You're making the mistake of assuming her actions follow any sort of reason,” said Walter with a touch of bitterness. “That way madness lies.”

Barbara heard the strange noise again, louder this time and followed by a distinctly human-like giggle that was just wrong enough to make her skin crawl. She slowly turned her head. Several small motes of yellow light flitted behind them in the dimly-lit corridor, leaving geometric glowing trails. “Wait. Are those fireflies?” she said, squinting at them.

Walter looked over his shoulder and then recoiled, backing away from the glowing lights with a hiss. “No, those are pixies! Cover your ears!”

One of them quickly zig-zagged towards Barbara's face with that same eerie, high-pitched giggle. She jerked her hands up to her ears, but not fast enough. The pixie zipped into her ear just before her palm covered it.

Barbara yelped and squeezed her eyes shut. She pawed at her ear to dislodge the pixie, its piercing laughter drilling into her head. “Get out, get out, get out!”

Suddenly, the giggles stopped. Maybe she had gotten the pixie out? She slowly opened her eyes.

Both Walter and the cloud of pixies were gone, leaving her in the hallway alone.

“Walt?” she called. Her voice echoed in the empty corridor. “Hello?”

“Mom?”

Barbara's heart fluttered in her chest. It couldn't be. “Jim?”

Jim – her human Jim, no troll horns or blue stone skin –peeked around the corner of the hallway. He smiled and then ran down another corridor. "Can't catch me!"

Barbara ran towards the end of the hall. "Jim! Come back!" From far away, she heard someone call her name, but it sounded muddled, like they were underwater.

She caught a glimpse of Jim's blue sweater disappearing down another hall as she rounded the corner. Before she could follow him, something snagged her arm, dragging her back.

She turned around, only to find the Pale Lady gripping her arm tightly.

"You pitiful mortal. You think you can escape me?" she sneered, dragging Barbara closer to her. 

Barbara wrenched her arm free, sprinting down the hall she'd seen her son run to. "Jim! Wait!" she called.

There were two figures at the end of the hallway in front of a large window, the candles overhead barely giving enough light to see them. She could make out Walter's distinctive horns and the knives in his cloak, as well as Jim's sweater and sneakers. But neither of them moved towards her when she called their names. They stood perfectly frozen in front of the window.

"Jim?" she called with trepidation. "Walter?" She took a shaking step towards them.

As she drew closer, she saw why: both Jim and Walter had been turned to stone. Jim had been petrified moments away from crying, while Walter was holding onto a few of his throwing knives and baring his fangs at an unseen enemy.

She'd failed. Barbara hadn't been able to save her son from the Pale Lady. All she'd managed to do was condemn Walter as well.

Barbara struggled to breathe, backing away from the statues. "No, no, no, no," she whispered.

This couldn't be happening. It made no sense. When had the Pale Lady turned Walter to stone? He had been with her only a few minutes ago. And why would she change Jim back into a human only to turn him into a statue? Just to break Barbara's heart?

The Pale Lady's mocking laugh rang throughout the corridor. "You may have your son back now, mortal. I do not want him anymore. You can even take the changeling as well, as my gift to you." As she spoke, Barbara could hear her draw closer, until she was only a few inches behind her. "I'd imagine they'd look quite nice in a garden."

Spinning around, Barbara swung her hand up underneath the Pale Lady's chin, snapping her head back. It felt like punching a brick wall. Her knuckles stung, but the look of dazed astonishment on the Pale Lady's face was grimly satisfying. Barbara balled her other hand into a fist, preparing to take another swing at her face.

She stopped. Something wasn't right. The Pale Lady wasn't fighting back. Why wasn't she trying to fight back against her?

The Pale Lady sneered at her hesitation. "Insignificant pest," she spat. She placed her hands on Barbara's shoulders. "Do you think anyone as weak as you can stand up against one of the Fae? I am eternal."

Barbara tried to listen closely as the Pale Lady angrily hissed out threat after threat but never actually began to carry them out. She could almost hear someone else talking underneath the Pale Lady's voice, but they still sounded muddled. She couldn't make out what they were saying.

But she was becoming more and more sure that this wasn't the real Pale Lady. Maybe it was only an illusion, but the hands on her shoulders felt solid enough.

She tuned out the Pale Lady's rants and focused on the hands resting on her shoulders and how they felt. Cool and heavy but gaunt, tipped with claws deliberately trying to not dig into her skin. They weren't the delicate, human-like hands of the Pale Lady.

Barbara's eyes went wide, and she pressed her hand against one of the arms holding onto her. She could feel the grooves cut into stone skin. "W-Walt? Is that you? What's going on? Why am I seeing things?" 

The other voice was stronger now, beginning to overpower the Pale Lady's insults. Now that she knew who was really in front of her, she had no problem identifying the voice as Walter's. "Barbara, liste--"

The Pale Lady's voice momentarily surged over Walter's, loud enough to make Barbara flinch. " _I will crush your still-beating heart beneath my heel!_ "

As the Pale Lady screamed, her image flickered like a badly tuned television set. Barbara caught a flash of familiar yellow eyes and horns and nearly sobbed with relief. "--ixie is still in your head. It's making you see your worst fear. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real."

Barbara stared at the large green eyes of the Pale Lady, trying to ignore the impulse to look over her shoulder at the two statues. "How do I get it out?"

The Pale Lady wavered again, and she saw Walter sigh. "Hold on a moment."

Holding tightly onto both of her shoulders, the Pale Lady shook Barbara vigorously, her head roughly whipping back and forth. With a high-pitched squeal, the pixie fled from Barbara's ear. 

The Pale Lady snapped back into Walter as Barbara woozily looked up at him and adjusted her crooked glasses, her head still spinning. Walter clapped his hands together near her ear, crushing the glowing pixie. When he pulled his hands apart, only a smear of yellow dust on his palms was left of the pixie.

Barbara glanced behind her, where she had seen the lifeless statues of Jim and Walter. Now that she wasn't under the pixie's influence, she saw only an empty, darkened corridor.

“Pixies were a distraction tactic the Gumm-Gumms used in battle. They would make any army the Gumm-Gumms opposed fall over themselves in fear. But the pixies only works as long as you don’t figure out what’s going on,” said Walter. Grimacing, he rubbed the yellow pixie dust off his hands using his cloak. “Once you know the trick, they’re easy to defeat.”

"Thanks for helping me get rid of that pixie." Barbara sighed. "And sorry for punching you, I thought you were the Pale Lady. Is your jaw OK?"

"I'm all right." Walter rubbed at the spot Barbara had struck him, wincing slightly. "You can throw quite a punch, Barbara."

"Like I said before: orange belt in Krav Maga," said Barbara. "I could've had you on the ground and out cold in half a minute."

"I'd like to think I'd be more of a challenge than that," said Walter. "Perhaps I'd last a whole forty-five seconds."

Barbara laughed and patted his arm. "I'm glad I'm on your side, Walter."

Walter smiled, his expression softening.

* * *

The two of them walked down the hallway, opening doors. So far they'd found several nondescript storage rooms, a flower garden with a singing water lily floating in a pond, an ice house with one very unlucky troll frozen inside a large block of ice, a sitting room full of medieval musical instruments, a small outdoor courtyard and a stable of winged horses. There had been no sign of Jim or the library.

Walter peered inside the next room and gave a relieved sigh. “Finally.”

Barbara's face lit up. “You found the library?”

“No, but the next best thing.” He reached inside and pulled a bronze sword with a four-foot long blade out of the room, showing it to Barbara. “The armory. If that encounter with Bular proved one thing, it's that more weapons wouldn't be a bad idea.”

Barbara peered inside the armory, sliding next to Walter. Swords, spears, axes and daggers of every shape and size lined the walls. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing made from iron or steel, or any weapon more complicated than a bow and arrow. Round shields were mounted on the walls, some clearly designed for enormous trolls.

It was easy to see that Jim wasn't inside the room either. Barbara was glad the Pale Lady hadn't hidden her son inside the armory – there were about five hundred different, shiny, ways to accidentally slice, stab or decapitate yourself. It was a mother's worst nightmare.

Walter selected a jeweled dagger from the wall, taking a few experimental swings and stabs with it. Satisfied, he reversed his grip on the dagger and held out its hilt to her.

Barbara looked at it carefully. “I mean, that's okay, but what about one of those?” she said, gesturing to the wall of swords and spears. “Those look like they could do some damage.”

“Do you know how to use a sword?” Walter said curiously.

“Uh, no. I was pretty good at poking veins with a needle for blood draws, does that count?” said Barbara. “I only had one person pass out on me and it turned out she had anemia.”

Walter chuckled. “Then I think you'll find the dagger more your speed.”

Barbara took the dagger from him. “OK, you have a point.”

As Walter searched through the armory's collection for a suitable weapon for himself, Barbara chewed her lip in thought, absently tapping the flat side of the dagger against her palm. “So, if the Pale Lady's weak against iron, exactly how much iron would it take to have an effect on her?”

“Any amount of iron, no matter how small,” said Walter. “But iron doesn't exist anywhere in Avalon for that very reason.”

"And that's the only weakness of hers that you know of?"

“Stricklander,” hissed a woman's rasping voice behind them. Not the Pale Lady, but someone else. “What do you think you're _doing_?”

Barbara and Walter turned around. A female troll was standing in the doorway they'd just come through, her magenta skin as smooth and polished as a marble statue. Large green eyes stared at the two of them beneath a curtain of long black hair that reached well past her waist. She didn't have horns, but her pointed ears were much longer than Walter's or Jim's. She wore the tattered remnants of a dark purple dress, two long rips in the skirt creating high slits on either side. Her legs were like a deer's, ending in two black hooves. While there were small hairline cracks in her stone skin visible above the bodice of her dress, she didn't seem to be in any danger of crumbling apart like Bular had.

“Ah, Nomura,” said Walter evenly. "It's good to see you. Are you here to kill us?"

“Spare me, Stricklander. Why are you helping her so much?” said Nomura, her green eyes flashing to Barbara before fixing on Walter. “The human will die and you'll be punished for your insolence. You know it, I know it, even the rubble in the dungeon that used to be Bular knows it. The Lady values the loyalty of her changelings - _to her!_ ”

Barbara felt her cheeks turn red. She'd been so wrapped up in getting Jim back that she'd hadn't considered what might happen to Walter if she lost. She thought of the petrified statue of Walter the pixie had shown her and shuddered. The last thing she wanted was for him to be punished for doing what she'd asked him to do. “Stricklander, if the Pale Lady's going to take her anger out on you for helping me, maybe she's righ--”

“No. I refuse to be her plaything anymore,” said Walter to Barbara. He turned to Nomura. “Don't you see? This is a chance to finally make a move against her, before Avalon finally dies and takes the rest of us with it.”

Nomura stared at him in disbelief, placing a hand on her hip. “You don't just want the woman to win and go home with her little welp. You want the Pale Lady to die,” she said quietly, a note of fear running through her words.

“Oh, don't sound so scandalized. You hate the Pale Lady just as much as I do, Nomura."

"I'm clearly the better one at hiding it," Nomura snorted, glaring at Walter. "Even if you were the one to teach me how to mask my hatred in the first place. You picked an awful time to suddenly re-discover your human feelings, Stricklander."

Walter sighed, rubbing at his temple. "I can't think of any other way. This has to end. It's gone on for too long already,” he said softly, and his voice sounded almost human. “Nomura, where is the castle library?"

Nomura's nostrils flared, as if she was just barely keeping her temper under control. "Why should I tell you?" she hissed. "Why would I involve myself at all?"

Walter stared at her in disbelief. "Because you're in charge of the library and it's the right thing to do. Now tell us where it is."

"No," Nomura huffed. "This whole game is pointless. The Pale Lady told Angor Rot to stop the human woman from finding her child by any means necessary."

"Ah. That would explain the pixies. I should've known that was Angor's doing," said Walter.

"Who's Angor Rot?" said Barbara, looking between Walter and Nomura.

"A troll who came to the Pale Lady of his own free will," said Walter. "The histories say he had good intentions, but he gave his soul to her in return for a sliver of her magic. Now he works as her assassin."

"Exactly," said Nomura sharply, fixing her eyes on Walter and Barbara. "Everyone he hunts, he kills. Do you really think the two of you have a prayer against both Angor Rot _and_ the Pale Lady?"

Barbara winced under the force of Nomura's stare. Of course she wanted to say 'yes' - but the truth was, she didn't know. Despite their agreement to play fair, the game had been stacked against her from the start, and with the Pale Lady bringing in her assassin, the odds were tipping even further to the Pale Lady's favor. Winning the game and getting Jim back home was starting to feel like an impossible task. 

She felt something cool brush against her hand. She looked down and saw Walter gently wrap his fingers around her hand. He gave her a reassuring grin - and she _did_ find it reassuring, despite the fangs.

Walter returned his attention to Nomura. "I believe we will succeed,” he said, his voice giving no room for arguments. “I'm afraid there's nothing you can say to change my mind."

Normura was silent for a moment and then rolled her eyes. “You stubborn fool,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Don't look for me to pull you out of the fire when she roasts you alive.” Nomura turned on her hooves and strode towards the armory's door, revealing two large curved swords strapped to her back. That she hadn't drawn the swords against them was a good sign, Barbara decided.

“Ms. Nomura?” called Barbara.

“What?” she snapped, turning back to face Barbara with her fangs bared.

Barbara met her eyes, sympathetic but refusing to be intimidated. “Who were you, before Avalon?” Nomura and Walter hadn't outright said Nomura was a changeling, but it seemed like a safe assumption after listening to them talk.

Nomura's lips curled into a sneer as she turned away from them with a low growl. She took another step towards the door and then stopped, resting one hand on the door with a sigh. Her claws sank into the soft wood, leaving long gouges behind.

“I worked at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City as a curator. I lived in that city my whole life, before she stole it away from me,” said Nomura quietly. Bright green eyes stared back at them over her shoulder. “If you're both insistent on continuing with this farce, then try the door at the end of the hall.”

Silently, she slipped out of the armory without another word.


	5. Chapter 5

After Walter selected a bronze sword for himself, they left the armory and headed to the door at the end of the hall, following Nomura‘s suggestion.

Barbara's stomach churned as they approached to door. The unseen bell in the castle had rung twice after Nomura had left the armory. She only had two more hours to find Jim and figure out a way to defeat the Pale Lady and get everyone - Jim, the changelings and herself - out of Avalon. They were running out of time. 

Barbara let out a sigh of relief when Walter opened the door and she caught sight of books.

The Pale Lady's library was enormous, easily three stories tall. Rows and rows of oak bookcases twice Barbara's height stretched from wooden floor to vaulted ceiling. The books were old and crafted by hand, carefully bound in leather with titles written in a strange language. At the other end of the room was an ornate fireplace, tiled in green marble. A large tapestry of the Pale Lady, dressed in golden armor and triumphantly stepping on the neck of a defeated troll, hung above the mantle.

“Jim?” called Barbara, looking through the rows of enormous bookcases. She listened for any sounds of movement. “Kiddo? You in here?”

Walter inspected the other side of the room, his sword hanging by his side.

Barbara heard the sound of footsteps a few bookcases over, the wooden floor creaking. “Jim?”

She ran to where she’d heard the noise and gasped. Two large, faceless stone creatures lumbered towards her, their arms shoving the books off the shelves. They didn’t look like any trolls she’d seen in Avalon, more like animate piles of rock quickly slapped together into a vaguely human-like shape.

”What are those things?” Barbara shouted, backpedaling away from the monsters. She really should’ve insisted on something from the armory bigger than the dagger.

Walter stepped next to her, brandishing his sword. “Those are golems," he said. "Another one of Angor Rot's traps."

"Golems. Okay. How do we stop them?" said Barbara, raising her dagger.

The two golems lurched towards Barbara and Walter, banging into each other and the bookcases on either side. With one hand, Walter yanked two knives free from his collar and threw them at the golems. The knives lodged into the cracks between the rocks in both of the golems' chests, but they didn't even make the golems falter.

"There's a totem hidden inside somewhere inside their bodies that Angor uses to control them," called Walter. "It's a small, white, carved figurine. You have to find and remove it from their bodies."

Barbara sighed, glancing at the two monsters. "I'll take the one on the left?" She said tiredly.

"Then I'll take the one on the right," Walter agreed.

One of the golems clumsily swung at Walter. He dodged the swing, sinking the blade of his sword into the gaps between the rocks on the golem's arm. With a grunt, he pulled down on the sword, using it to pry apart the rocks that made up its arm. The rocks fell from the golem's elbow, landing in a pile in front of Walter.

The other golem reached for Barbara, its fingers grasping for her throat. Barbara wedged her dagger into the golem's wrist before it could touch her, severing its hand. The golem's hand fell apart as soon as it had been separated from the rest of its body. It grabbed at Barbara's chignon bun with its remaining hand, yanking on her hair. Barbara yelled in pain as her bun came undone, her head snapping back. Seeing stars, she grasped hold of the knife Walter had thrown into the golem, using it to dislodge one of the rocks covering its chest. Letting go of Barbara's hair, the golem tried to cover its exposed chest with its hand, but Barbara used the dagger to pry off its other arm.

A small white figurine of some kind was barely visible nestled between the rocks inside the golem's chest. She levered it out with the throwing knife, backing away from the golem with its totem clutched in her hand. 

As soon as she had removed the totem, the golem collapsed into rubble and dust. 

Letting out a breath, Barbara dropped the totem and turned around. Walter apparently hadn't been able to find the totem in the remaining golem. He had managed to carve out a large hole through the middle of its chest and removed its other arm, but no totem was visible. With both of its arms gone, the golem was reduced to trying to charge at Walter until he drove the tip of his sword into one of its ankles.

"Need some help, Walt?" called Barbara.

"I could use another hand," admitted Walter.

Barbara climbed up onto the pile of rocks and then jumped onto the golem's back, hooking one arm around its neck. "This would be a lot more effective if these things needed to breath," she grunted, tightening her hold on its neck to keep herself anchored there. She sank the blade of her dagger into the nape of the golem's neck, prying off a large stone.

There was a flash of green light from the front of the golem, and Walter flew up on his bat-like wings until he was hovering above the golem's featureless head. The golem hopped up and down on its one good leg, futilely trying to catch the flying changeling, until Walter drove the sword down into the very top of its head.

The totem dropped into the cavity Barbara had just made in its neck. With a cry of triumph, she reached in and yanked out the totem.

Her elation was short lived as the golem began to topple backwards with her still clinging to its back. A twinge of fear ran through her as she realized the rocks that made up the golem's body were going to crush her.

Before panic could truly set in, Walter dove down and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back up above the collapsing golem. "I've got you!"

Barbara clung to Walter's chest as the dust settled in the library. Walter lightly landed in front of one of the large piles of rock, his hands touching her back.

Once solid ground was under her feet again, Barbara shakily let go of Walter, tucking a lock of her loose hair behind her ear. After the golem had undone her chignon, her hair had gone everywhere.

"Your hair looks nice down," said Walter offhandedly, gently brushing the hair that'd fallen in front of her face out of her eyes. His eyes widened as he realized what he'd just done. "Er, not that it didn't look nice before. It's just...I..." He trailed off, his face turning dark green. 

Barbara felt her cheeks flush. She gave Walter a warm smile. "You think so?" The two bobby pins she used to secure her bun were still clipped to her hair. She pulled them free, putting them in her pocket. "I'll leave it down for now."

Barbara turned back towards the remains of the golems, only to find a large circle of twisting shadows in front of her. She stared at it for a moment before calling with trepidation, “Walt?”

His panicked shout of “Look out!” was the only warning she had. She raised the dagger in front of her face, meeting something large hurtling out of the portal straight at her, forcing her back several steps.

It was a troll, but this troll looked as if he'd crawled out of a grave, his stone skin bleached white and covered in tree roots. Cracks were visible along his body, underneath the remains of protective armor. Blue geodes glowed from inside the fissures. The sclera of his one eye was black, the iris burning gold. He held a black staff in his claws. Its hook-like tip had been caught by the blade of her dagger, inches from her forehead. She stared at the staff, using all her strength to keep it away from her.

The troll gave a smug chuckle. Realizing what the troll was about to do, Barbara dropped the dagger an instant before the troll roughly twisted his staff, intending to break her wrist. Instead, the dagger tumbled to the floor. The troll stamped his foot on top of the dagger, making the floor shake.

Barbara backed away from the troll. So much for her weapon.

“The changeling welp's mother. Brave, for a human,” said the troll, his voice a guttural rasp. “But the brave are often the first to die.” He gave her a mocking sneer, showing off his fangs.

“Angor Rot,” said Walter warningly, stepping next to Barbara. He held the sword in one hand in front of her, several throwing knives fanned out in the other. “I would suggest you leave. Immediately. This doesn't concern you.”

“Why would I want to do that, Stricklander? Rarely have I had the opportunity to hunt a human _before_ the Pale Lady could sink her claws into them.” His one eye fixed on Barbara.

“Perhaps you didn't hear me,” said Walter, his eyes narrowing. He threw a volley of knives at the other troll.

Angor Rot held his staff in front of him, opening a black vortex. The knives disappeared into the vortex, and then they flew back out, streaking towards Walter and Barbara.

"Look out!" Barbara roughly yanked Walter out of their path, and the knives embedded themselves in the side of the bookcase behind them, where their heads had been moments ago.

Angor laughed as the vortex in front of him disappeared. “Releasing Bular failed to kill you, my pixies did not make you slaughter each other and you destroyed both of my golems.” He gave the two of them a toothy grin. "It has been a long time since I have had to work so hard to catch my prey. But that will only make your deaths all the more satisfying."

Walter frowned, bringing up his sword.

Angor pointed his staff at the floor below Barbara's feet. She quickly dove out of the way as a black portal opened up where she'd been standing.

Walter rushed at Angor in a zig-zag pattern, raising his sword. Angor grimaced, closing the portal in the floor and opening a new one in midair in front of him, like a shield.

Walter easily side-stepped the portal and used his wings to glide behind Angor. Watching him, it was obvious to Barbara he had never intended to simply run Angor through with the sword. He had a different part of Angor's body in mind.

The sword raised above his head, Walter brought it down into Angor's unarmored shoulder with a roar. The sharp blade cleaved through Angor's arm, severing it from his body. It dropped to the floor with a sickening thud, the hand still holding onto the staff as it quickly began to turn grey and harden.

Angor roared and reared back, his other hand clutching at the stump near his shoulder, small pebbles dropping from it. He glared at Walter with pure hatred, not noticing Barbara creep up behind the changeling and carefully peel back the clawed fingers clutching the staff before they could petrify.

“You'll pay for your disrespect, changeling. I'll saw off both your arms before I kill you,” seethed Angor, his voice strained. With his one remaining hand, he summoned a fireball, purple flames licking at his claws.

Grasping the staff by the metal handle in the middle, Barbara pointed it at the floor underneath Angor's feet. She hadn't heard him shout a magic spell when he'd been slinging portals around the library, so she hoped it was fairly intuitive to use. Otherwise, the two of them were only moments from death.

_'Portal, open there.'_

The staff vibrated in her hands, a hum she could feel down to her bones.

A black vortex appeared beneath Angor, and he screamed in rage as he plummeted down, the fireball disappearing. But the portal wasn't quite as large as it should have been, and he was able to sink his claws into the wooden floor before he fell completely through it. Only the top of his head and his one remaining hand were visible above the swirling black portal.

“You dare to use my own _Skathe-Hrün_ against me?” Angor growled, struggling in an attempt to crawl out of the portal. “I will slowly rip both of you apart for that. The woman first, and then you, _traitor_!” He shouted at Walter.

Barbara's head throbbed in pain as she clutched the staff with both hands, struggling to maintain her concentration to keep the portal open. It was a little distracting to have Angor scream about killing them. She willed the portal to open wider, abruptly leaving Angor's hand with nothing to hold onto. He fell into the vortex with a howl of indignant fury.

_'Portal, close.'_

The vortex gradually shrank down until it disappeared completely, cutting off Angor's echoing screams.

Barbara dropped Angor's staff and fell to her knees. She could feel the beginnings of an awful headache start between her eyebrows, a sharp pain that felt like her head was being torn apart.

Walter lowered his sword, staring down at the arm he'd cut off Angor Rot and its empty hand. He turned to face Barbara, kneeling down in front of her when she let out a moan of pain. “Barbara? Are you hurt?”

“Hang on.” Barbara took one of Walter's cool stone hands and pressed it against her forehead. She sighed in relief as the shooting pain in her head immediately lessened to a dull ache, tension leeching out of her body. “Ah. Much better.”

Walter looked at her with surprise. “Headache?” he guessed.

Barbara nodded, closing her eyes. “From the staff.”

"I didn't think it was possible for a human to use the _Skathe-Hrün_.”

Barbara gave a hollow laugh. “Considering we were probably going to die a very messy death if I didn't, I had pretty good motivation to figure it out fast.”

The unseen bell tolled once, rattling Barbara's already shaken nerves. How had it been an hour already? How much time had they wasted fighting off the golems and Angor Rot that they could've used to search the castle?

She had just one hour left, and they were no closer to finding Jim than when they'd started.

“Walt, I'm sorry,” said Barbara, letting go of Walter's hand. “I-I don't think we're going to pull this off.”

She had lost everything. Not only had she failed to free her son from the Pale Lady, she'd also managed to drag Walter down with them, like Nomura had warned.

“It's not over yet, Barbara.” Walter picked up the _Skathe-Hrün_ from the floor, holding it in front of him. He used his other hand to gently tilt her head up to meet his eyes and smiled. “What if I told you that Angor Rot has given us a way to find to your son in an instant?”


	6. Chapter 6

Barbara stared up at Walter in confusion as he slowly let go of her chin. The words he'd just said didn't quite fit together. For a moment, she wondered if she'd misheard him, it seemed too good to really be true. "What?"

Walter gestured to the staff in his other hand. "The portals the  _Skathe-Hrün_ creates can also be used to teleport to someone, as long as there's a strong emotional connection. In your hands, it can take us to where the Pale Lady has hidden your son."

Barbara's mouth dropped open. "Walter, that's amazing!"  She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Before she fully realized what she was doing, she pressed a quick kiss to Walter's lips, between his protruding fangs. 

The thunderstruck, wondrous look he gave her when she pulled away made her blush. She grinned slightly.

Barbara took the _Skathe-Hrün_ from Walter and slowly stood up. She felt a familiar twinge in her head as her fingers wrapped around the handle of the staff. Ignoring it, she met Walter's eyes. “What do I need to do?”

“Mostly what you did before. Instead of focusing on how much you don't want Angor Rot to kill us, concentrate on your son," said Walter as he raised his sword again. 

"Seems easy enough." She looked to Walter. “Is Angor going to pop out again as soon as I open a portal?"

“He shouldn't, but I wouldn't keep it open for very long,” said Walter.

“All right. Let's do this.” Barbara pointed the staff's tip at the unlit fireplace and closed her eyes. One of Walter's hands gently settled on her shoulder, a comforting weight that grounded her in the present.

She remembered the day Jim had been born, the nearly overwhelming sense of love she had felt seeing the small dark-haired baby wrapped in blankets for the first time. When he took his first wobbly steps, Jim's first day of preschool, then kindergarten, meeting Toby for the first time and watching them quickly become inseparable.

Jim's fifth birthday, where her husband had walked out of their lives. ' _We have to look after each other now, kiddo.'_ That first Christmas with just the two of them. Jim's sixth birthday, where he'd hoped and wished so hard that his dad would come back, and she'd wished there was something more she could do to ease his hurt.

Today, Jim's seventh birthday, where she'd followed her enchanted son into Avalon to rescue him.

Barbara poured every ounce of love she had for Jim into the staff.

_'I need to find my son. Where is he?'_

She felt a pressure build up inside her chest, her fingers tingling where they touched the staff. It responded to her pleas, shuddering in her hand. There was a gentle tug in her chest as the magic of the _Skathe-Hrün_ found its target.

_'Jim.'_

Barbara's eyes snapped open. “Take me to my son!” she shouted, thrusting the staff out.

With a burst of displaced air, a large black portal opened up in front of the fireplace.

Barbara lowered the staff, breathing heavily as she stared at the portal in front of her. This portal seemed more stable than the first one she'd made, and didn't require her constant concentration to keep open. She looked over her shoulder at Walter. "You ready, Walt?"

In response, Walter took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. The two of them walked into the portal together.

When she emerged from the portal, she found herself in a large circular room. Toys of all sorts, ranging from old and worn stuffed animals and antique porcelain dolls to more modern electric train sets and small toy cars littered the floor. A large gold lantern shaped like the sun dangled from the middle of the ceiling, painted pale blue with puffy white clouds. Across from her was a large four-post bed, piled high with plush quilts and pillows. Jim was curled up in the bed, soundly asleep. She could make out his dark hair and the tips of his horns poking out from underneath the covers.

The Pale Lady stood next to the bed, her back to them as she watched Jim sleep. In place of the green velvet gown was the golden suit of armor Barbara had seen in the library's tapestry. Nomura stood nearby, her arms crossed sullenly over her chest. She obviously did not want to be there.

The portal closed behind them. Barbara stood rooted to the spot. "Jim."

“I wasn't sure if you would make it or not,” said the Pale Lady. “Humans are such foolish, fragile creatures. But here you are.” She turned around with a mocking smile. Her eyes abruptly narrowed at the sight of the _Skathe-Hrün_ in Barbara's hands. “Where did you get that?” she said sharply, all humor gone.

Barbara forced herself to meet the Pale Lady's eyes. “I think you know where.”

The Pale Lady's pursed her lips, her face hardening. “And what has become of my champion, Angor Rot?”

“Gone,” said Walter with a nonchalant shrug.

“I see,” said the Pale Lady quietly. “I shall think up a suitable punishment for you later.” With a flick of her wrist, a bolt of golden magic sent Walter flying into the stone wall of the room, his sword clattering to the ground.

“Leave him alone!” shouted Barbara. She raised the _Skathe-Hrün_ , pointing the tip at the Pale Lady.

The Pale Lady laughed at her. “Oh, you foolish human. I was the one who _created_ that staff. It answers to me above anyone else.” She made a twirling motion with her hand. The _Skathe-Hrün_ jumped out of Barbara's grip, flying across the room to land in the Pale Lady's open palm. She dropped it on the bed, next to Jim.

Walter stumbled to his feet, clutching at his head. Barbara's heart twisted. What would have been a fatal injury to a human left only a cut across his cheek. Changeling blood was apparently a bright purple color.

The Pale Lady pulled what at first Barbara thought was a large black marble out of the air. It wasn't until she saw the golden rings glowing across its surface that she realized what it actually was. 

"Angor Rot's missing eye," she said quietly.

The Pale Lady smirked. "My champion was watching you, and listening to you, ever since we made our bargain." She threw the eye at Barbara's feet. "Your true name is Barbara Lake."

Walter moaned as Barbara picked up the eye from the floor. It stared at Barbara, the pupil moving slightly. She slipped it into her pocket.

"I found my son," said Barbara. "I won the game. We agreed you'd let us leave Avalon if I found Jim."

“No! Neither of you shall leave Avalon,” snapped the Pale Lady, a wild look in her green eyes. “You did not give me your true name. You broke the terms of our game."

“ _You_ were the one who broke the rules, over and over!” shouted Barbara, her temper flaring. “I _won_ your game! We found Jim even though you sent Angor to kill us. _Let us go home_.”

"Jim shall be my dear changeling son until I tire of him. _You,_ Barbara Lake _,_ I will turn into a monster so horrible that you shall serve as a warning to any others who would dare attempt to cross me." She turned to Nomura. "Changeling, kill Stricklander. I have no further use for him." 

Sighing, Nomura stepped forward, removing the twin swords from her back. "I will take no joy from killing you, Stricklander." The blades of her swords glowed red. 

Walter lowered himself into a defensive crouch, his wings flaring out.

Nomura snarled. But instead of rushing towards Walter with her swords, she gracefully spun around and hooked the Pale Lady's delicate neck with one curved blade, forcing her to look into her eyes.

“But killing _you_  should be fun, my Lady,” purred Nomura with a terrifying smile. Nomura released the Pale Lady's neck a moment before her cloven hooves snapped out, kicking her in the stomach.

Doubling over, the Pale Lady tumbled back against the bed, nearly falling on top of Jim. She grabbed onto one of the bedposts, almost snapping the wood in two. 

Underneath the blankets, Jim sleepily rolled over onto his side away from the Pale Lady, nuzzling into the pillow.

The Pale Lady launched herself at Nomura with a wordless screech. The changeling managed to hold her off with the twin swords, blades flashing as she leapt around the Pale Lady.

Walter limped over to Barbara, clutching at his side. “Her magic is quickly unravelling. If you can get through to Jim and break the spell sealing away his human memories, it will weaken her even more.”

Barbara nodded, and then frowned when Walter picked up the sword he'd dropped when the Pale Lady had sent him into the wall.

“Wait, what are you doing?” said Barbara, placing her hand on her arm.

Walter's face was grim. “I'm going to help Nomura fight the Pale Lady.”

“But you're hurt, Walt!”

Walter touched the side of her face, running his claws through her hair. “I'll be all right, Barbara. Just get your son to remember!” he said, and then leapt into the battle against the Pale Lady, dodging bolts of her magic.

Barbara carefully lowered the blankets covering Jim's face, gazing at her changed son. He was still blue, his skin turned into the living stone of a troll, and his horns and fangs had grown slightly larger than when she'd seen him before in the Pale Lady's throne room. “Oh, Jim.” She pressed a hand against one of his black horns. “We'll get through this, kiddo.”

She gently stroked his hair, memories of sitting next to him on his bed as he cried after James had left coming back to her. She would sing lullabies to help him get to sleep, and she had quickly discovered that he was growing a little too old for 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'. Instead, she had reached for the songs she'd loved when she was younger.

" _I can't stand to see you sad, I can't bear to hear you cry,_ " Barbara began to sing quietly. " _If you can't tell me what you need, all I can do is wonder why. Someday, someway, oh. Someday, someway..._ "

Bending over the bed, she gently kissed the top of his head. Her good-night kiss, when she was home to tuck him into bed.

Jim sighed in his sleep, mumbling something that almost sounded like “Mom”.

Barbara gasped. She lightly grasped his shoulder and shook it. “Jim? It's time to wake up. C'mon, rise and shine.”

Jim groggily blinked open his eyes, still the same shade of blue they'd always been. He turned to look at her. A tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Mom?”

A flood of relief rushed through her, and tears of joy sprang to her eyes. She'd never been so thrilled to hear Jim call her that. “Jim!”

“I had a really weird dream,” he said, rubbing at one eye with his hands. “I was kidnapped by this bad fairy who wanted to be my mom and she turned me into a tro--” His eyes widened, and he looked down at his blue skin and the black claws on the tips of his fingers. “M-Mom?” he said unsteadily.

“Oh kiddo, I know. ” She wrapped her arms tightly around Jim in a crushing hug. “I wish it was a dream.”

“No!” The Pale Lady screamed behind them, grabbing her by the neck and yanking her away from Jim. Barbara gasped in pain as her head snapped back, letting go of Jim.

With a roar, the Pale Lady threw Barbara down to the stone floor.

“Mom!” Jim shouted. He started to run towards the Pale Lady and Barbara, but Nomura grabbed his arm. “Stop it! Don't hurt my mom!”

“Jim,” Barbara could barely hear Walter say, his voice low. “You need to stay back. I doubt your mother would want for you to get hurt.”

It was time for Barbara's last and most desperate defense against the Pale Lady, the one she'd wondered about ever since Walter had told her about the Pale Lady's weakness to iron. Barbara scrambled to grab the thin throwing knife she'd put in her pocket. She thrust her hand into her pocket and hissed in pain as the knife's razor-sharp edge sliced across the palm of her hand.

Before she could pull out the knife, the Pale Lady wrapped a hand around Barbara's throat, her long nails biting into her skin as she easily lifted Barbara into the air, the tips of her shoes brushing against the floor. “Are you happy now, mortal? You have ruined everything.”

“Let her go!” shouted Walter, hands tightening around the sword's hilt.

“Ah!” said the Pale Lady warningly. “Another step closer and I will snap her neck. I do not believe you would want that to happen, Stricklander?”

Jim burst into tears while Walter and Nomura silently glowered at her.

A mandala of golden light formed around the Pale Lady's hand. “ _By your true name, Barbara Lake_ ,” she intoned, “ _I invoke my power, imposing my will over your own. You, your mind, your soul, all belongs to me_.” She thrust her hand towards Barbara's head.

Nothing happened. 

The Pale Lady froze, giving a puzzled frown. The mandala fizzled out. Her confusion was quickly replaced with indignant rage when she figured out what had gone wrong.

"You don't have the power left to do anything to me," Barbara choked out. Blackness danced at the edge of her vision and she struggled to remain conscious.

“I may not be able to twist your mind or change you into a monster, but humans are incredibly delicate,” said the Pale Lady with a sneer. She pulled Barbara's face closer to hers, until they were only inches apart. “As breakable as porcelain, I'm afraid.”

Barbara glared at the Pale Lady. “I think you'll see,” she rasped through the haze of pain, “that I am made of _iron_.”

Barbara pressed her bloody palm to the exposed lower half of the Pale Lady's face, leaving a long smear of bright red across the perfect skin of her cheek and jaw.

The blood burned upon contact with the Pale Lady's skin. She bellowed in pain, black smoke pouring from the helmet as the blackened burns began to creep up her face and down her neck. The edges of thecharred burns glowed red, like embers.

Barbara wrenched herself out of the Pale Lady's grip, stumbling back. Her stomach twisted at the sight of what her blood had done to the Pale Lady. “Jim, kiddo, don't look!”

Both of them watching in rapt fascination as the Pale Lady began to burn, Nomura and Walter covered Jim's eyes to his audible disappointment.

“Wretched human!” cried the Pale Lady, collapsing to her knees. Her hands pawed at her face, long fingers digging into the burned skin in a frantic attempt to get the blood off of her.

"No!" Barbara said. "Don't touch it, you'll only make it worse!"

Her warning came too late. Barbara's blood sizzled and crackled against the Pale Lady's hands. With a fresh cry of agony, the Pale Lady's immortal flesh began to sear off her fingers.

“Iron?” the Pale Lady choked out, staring at the horrific burns across her hand. Her voice was barely more than a croak. “How? There is no iron in Avalon!”

“It's basic human physiology,” said Barbara. She held up her bloody palm. “Human blood has iron in it, but not very much. I didn't know if it would do anything.”

The Pale Lady stared at her silently, a look of confusion frozen on what was left of her face. Most of it was charred beyond recognition. Flames licked at the remains of her hand and along the line of her jaw.

"I'm sorry," said Barbara, looking away. "I had no idea this would happen."

The Pale Lady reared back, but the ash began to flake off from her face, drifting into the air. “No!” She coughed, expelling a plume of noxious black smoke. “This is impossible! No!” Her golden suit of armor rapidly dulled, losing its otherworldly radiance. Plates began to fall from the armor as the Pale Lady's body withered away. 

Barbara kneeled down next to her and grasped the Pale Lady's skeletal hand with her uninjured hand. It was a small gesture of comfort for a being that was clearly dying, but it was all she could do.

The Pale Lady went still, staring up at Barbara with wide eyes, her expression unreadable. The Pale Lady let out her last breath and the rest of her body disappeared into a cloud of black ashes. Golden embers danced around the discolored remains of her armor.

Pulling himself out of the changelings' hands, Jim dashed to Barbara and buried his face against his mother's shirt, hugging her waist. She gently stroked the dark hair in between his horns. “Jim.”

A tremor ran through the castle, drawing another frightened cry from Jim.

Barbara looked at Walter and Nomura questioningly, the quake knocking the wooden frame of the bed against the stone wall. “Is this normal?”

“No,” said Walter. “The Pale Lady _is_ Avalon. Without her, this place will cease to exist.”

“What does that mean for us?” said Nomura as another violent tremor rocked the castle.

“I'm not sure,” said Walter heavily. “But we have no way to leave Avalon. Only the Pale Lady could open paths through the Veil to Earth.”

“I'm sorry, Mom! It's just...I thought I heard Dad's voice, in the woods, and...and...” Jim dissolved into wailing sobs, tears running down his blue cheeks. “I don't want to be a troll!”

“Kiddo, it's okay. We'll be all right.” She sat down on the stone floor of the bedchamber, Jim nearly collapsing into her lap.

Walter and Nomura's grave expressions clearly gave away that neither of them agreed with her, but thankfully they didn't say anything out loud to contradict her in front of Jim.

“Stricklander, what about the _Skathe-Hrün_?” suggested Nomura, picking the staff up from the bed. “Could this get us back to Earth?”

Walter shook his head. “It can't create portals between both sides of the Veil.”

“But Avalon's dying," said Barbara. "Everything's falling apart. If the Veil's weakening too, maybe it'd be possible to use the _Skathe-Hrün_  to...poke a hole through it?”

Walter sighed, looking at Barbara and Jim and then at Nomura holding the staff. “We don't have anything to lose by trying, I suppose. I'm not sure what'll happen if we're still here when Avalon collapses, but I don't particularly want to find out.”

He kneeled down in front of Barbara and Jim. Nomura kneeled down next to him, holding the staff out towards them.

“Grab onto the _Skathe-Hrün_ and hold on tight,” Walter instructed, grasping it above Nomura's hand. "As if your life depended on it."

Another sharp tremor made the room shake as Barbara and Jim both grabbed onto the _Skathe-Hrün_. The walls around them began to crack, the mortar cleanly separating from the stone blocks. A tapestry on the wall clattered to the floor.

Barbara tried to squash down her rising sense of panic as she wrapped an armaround her son, hoping they could get out of the castle before it crumbled apart.

“Think of home,” said Walter, closing his eyes. “Picture it in your mind, as clearly as you can. Concentrate.”

Another tremor shook the castle, debris falling from the ceiling. Barbara closed her eyes and did her best to ignore it, but the roar of crumbling stone grew louder as the floor shook beneath them.

“Find the path," said Walter next to her, his voice low and soothing. "Let it lead you back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Barbara sings to Jim is [ 'Someday, Someway' by Marshall Crenshaw.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWqcn-qbFok)


	7. Chapter 7

Barbara slowly opened her eyes when she heard a bird trill overhead, the roar of the tremors fading away. Jim shook in her arms so much it felt like he was vibrating. Walter had extended his wings to cover both her and Jim and Nomura. He slowly drew his wings back. 

She, Jim, Walter and Nomura were in the woods, the back of her house visible through the trees. The four of them were still holding onto the _Skathe-Hrün,_ her hand sandwiched between Walter's and Jim's. The branches overhead created a canopy of shadow.

Nomura was the first to let go of the staff, slowly standing up and looking around. "Is this it? Are we back on Earth?" She looked down at her magenta hands and snarled. "Why are we still trolls? The Pale Lady is dead! Her magic is gone!"

“Jimbo! Doctor L!” Toby ran from the back door through the backyard, a wide smile on his face. He was wearing one of the saucepans from the kitchen on his head like a helmet, and had tied two of her baking sheets around his chest and back with twine. For reasons known only to Toby, he had ignored the knife block on the kitchen counter and was instead brandishing a potato masher as a weapon.

Jim's head popped up. "Toby!" he shouted. He dashed towards Toby.

Walter's eyes widened in horror. Letting go of the staff, he lurched after Jim before he could step out into the sunlight. "Stop! Sunlight burns trolls!" 

A brilliant flash of blue light flared around Jim as soon as he ran out into the sunlight, and he stumbled forward with a cry of surprise.

"Jim!" Barbara shouted, reaching for her son.

Jim laughed as he straightened up and then turned back to face her. “Mom, look!”

Barbara stared at her son, still holding the staff in her hands. Jim's horns and fangs were gone, and his skin had returned to its normal color, no longer blue stone.

Jim grinned, and it was the gap-toothed grin of a human child. “I'm not a troll anymore!”

“Jimbo? Are you okay?” said Toby. "You were blue before and now you're not? And...did you have _horns_?" He looked up at Barbara and the two changelings next to her and gave a yelp, holding the potato masher out in front of him like a sword. "Stay back! No sudden moves!"

"Tobes, they're OK," said Jim, gently lowering Toby's arm. "They helped save me."

Nomura looked thoughtfully at Jim and Toby in the sunshine. "The sunlight turned him back." With a laugh, she ran toward Barbara's yard, jumping out into the sunlight. Purple light obscured her for a moment, and when she landed on the lawn, she was no longer a troll but human, her skin pale. Her black hair was cut short, and she wore a long purple dress and black heeled boots. She looked down at her human hands and felt her rounded ears and laughed again.

Toby gaped at the human Nomura, his jaw hanging wide open. " _Whaaaaaaaaaat_."

"It's...really weird and hard to explain," said Jim, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. "But your Nana wasn't wrong about something dangerous in the woods..."

As Jim told Toby about Avalon and the Pale Lady, Barbara turned back to Walter, smiling at him. Her grin faded when she looked at Walter's face. He didn't look as thrilled about the prospect of turning back into a human as she'd expected. In fact, he looked almost grim, like he wanted to hide deeper into the shadows. "Walt? What is it, what's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"I'm not sure." He looked down at the leaves and then at Barbara. "Becoming human again is something I've dreamed of for ages. But now that it's literally only a few feet away from me..." His voice trailed of, and he shifted uncomfortably, his wings drooping.

Setting the staff down on the ground, Barbara took a step closer to Walter. "You're nervous about turning back into a human, Walt. I think that's perfectly understandable considering how long you've been a troll. I can go get a blanket to cover you so that we can get you into the house if you don't want to do it now, or..."

Walter quickly shook his head. "No, I _do_ want to change, Barbara. I don't want to live as a troll forever. But at the same time, I think there are a few things I will miss." Both of his wings stretched out to their full span before lowering again. "I loved to fly. My wings were one of the few things that made hundreds of years trapped in Avalon even remotely bearable."

"Hmm," said Barbara. "I think I'll miss them too. They did save me from being crushed by a collapsing golem." She pressed her uninjured hand against Walter's cheek.

The changeling gave a quiet sigh, leaning into her hand.

"You helped me in Avalon, let me help you now." She placed both of her hands in his and squeezed. "We'll do it together, okay?"

Walter nodded.

Taking a step back, Barbara slowly led Walter out of the shadowed woods and into the sunlight, the dried leaves and twigs of the forrest giving way to the grass of her backyard. Walter took a hesitant step after her.

Walter flinched when the first rays of sunlight brushed the knuckles of his stone hand, but he didn't immediately change. Lightly squeezing his hands, Barbara took another careful step back, drawing Walter fully into the sun.

There was a moment where Walter was standing completely in the sunshine, his wings pulled tight against his back, before a flare of green light surrounded his body, too bright for her to see him. With her fingers still curled around his hands, she could feel them become softer, warmer.

When the light faded, Barbara was holding the hands of a man in his late forties, wearing a brown suit with a bottle-green turtleneck sweater.

She stared at him, momentarily overwhelmed, seeing both the changeling she'd known in Avalon and the human man standing in front of her. The shape of the nose was almost identical and his ears were similar, just not pointed. There was the same dark middle streak among the silver hair, although it was styled up into a pompadour instead of slicked back. When he looked at her, she saw his human eyes were the same shade of green his skin had been as a changeling.

"W-Walter?" she said, her cheeks turning red.

The smile Walter gave when he looked at her face was brilliant. “Barbara.” Walter's voice was smoother now, more refined, and his English accent was easier to discern. 

Barbara looked at his human hands in hers and then swept him into a crushing hug, her arms around his neck.

Walter chuckled, curling his arms around her back. "Are you disappointed?”

"Not at all," said Barbara, cupping her hand against his cheek. Her fingers brushed against warm human skin. "You pull off the silver fox look very well."

Walter blinked. "The silver _what_?" 

Nomura smirked, folding her arms across the chest. "You're hopeless, Stricklander," she called to him.

" _Doctor L and Troll Guy, sitting in a tree_ ," Toby began to sing, popping up next to Nomura. " _K-I-S-S-I--_ "

"Tobes!" Jim interrupted, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die of embarrassment.

With a laugh, Walter and Barbara took a step back, still holding hands. Walter gently turned over Barbara's cut hand. The bleeding had stopped, leaving a red line and dried smears of blood across her palm.

She looked down at the cut across her palm and sighed. “I'll go get this cleaned and bandaged." She turned to Toby and Jim. "You guys still up for birthday cake and presents?”

Jim nodded, and then awkwardly rubbed at his arm. “Mom, is it OK if we do it inside? I...don't think I want to be near the woods right now.”

Barbara smiled and ruffled his hair. “Sure, c'mon, kiddo.” She looked over her shoulder at Walter and Nomura. "You guys too, we can celebrate both of you coming back to Earth."

As they walked into the house, Barbara took a deep breath. It was a relief to be in her own house again. “How long were we gone, Toby?” she said.

“Uh, about ten minutes,” said Toby, taking off his saucepan helmet, looking suddenly guilty. “I know you told me to stay put, but I was going to go into the woods after you and Jimbo, when you guys didn't come back right away."

"I'm glad you didn't," said Barbara. The thought of Toby ending up in Avalon as well made her feel slightly ill.

"Oh, and I didn't want the cake to burn up, so I blew out the candles on the cake, Doctor L, even though it wasn't my birthday. I didn't make a wish, though!” Toby said, pointing towards the cake on the counter.

In her rush to go after Jim, she'd completely forgotten about the candles she'd left lit on Jim's birthday cake. “Thanks, Toby. Why don't you and Jim watch Gun Robot for a little bit while I get things ready, OK?” 

The two kids immediately rushed to the TV set in the living room to watch Gun Robot, Toby tossing away his makeshift armor and weapon.

Barbara emptied out her pockets onto the kitchen counter. Angor Rot's eye, two of Walter's feather-shaped throwing knives and her cell phone. The screen was cracked and scratched from the knives and it still refused to turn on. The magic of Avalon must've fried it. Angor's eye attempted to roll away as soon as she put it down. Barbara sighed, getting a glass from the cupboard and placing it over the eye. Angor's eye rolled around angrily inside the glass, trapped.

Walter and Nomura entered the kitchen, Walter carrying the  _Skathe-Hrün._ He placed it on the counter. It looked wildly out of place in a suburban kitchen next to Jim's birthday cake.

"Can you two watch the kids for a moment?" Barbara asked. "I need to take care of this cut and leaving knives and a magical staff lying around young kids unattended is asking for trouble."

Walter nodded.

Barbara slipped upstairs, leaving the bathroom door open as she washed her wound with soap and cold water first. Her hand clean of blood, she raised her glasses from her face to take a closer look at the extent of the injury.

It didn't look too bad. The cut was long, running across her palm, but it hadn't sliced very deeply into her skin and hadn't started to bleed again. She wouldn't need stitches.

She smeared antibiotic ointment over the cut, folding a gauze pad over it and taping it down. Not perfect, but it'd do for now.

Coming back downstairs, she stopped on the last stair, watching Jim and Toby lying on the floor in front of the TV set, intently watching Gun Robot. Nomura sat on the sofa behind them, looking bored, her chin resting on her hand, while Walter sat at the counter dividing the dining room from the kitchen. He'd moved the glass with Angor's eye next to him.

Barbara got out five dessert plates from the cupboard, placing them next to the cake. "You and Nomura can stay here as long as you need to," she said as she struck a match against the side of the box. "After all you've done for me and Jim, it's the least we can do."

"I believe I may take you up on that offer for a while," said Walter. "I think Nomura wishes to get back to New York City as soon as she can."

"How long was she in Avalon?" Barbara began to re-light the candles on Jim's birthday cake. 

"Four years. I imagine her family will be ecstatic to see her. They'd probably given up any hope of ever seeing her again."

With the seven candles lit on the cake, she waved out the match and dropped it into the sink. "What about you, Walter? Are there any family or friends in London waiting for you?"

Walter sighed. "No. I had no living family when I was taken: I was unmarried, an only child and my parents were killed in the Blitz. My friends were my fellow professors at the university, and they weren't exactly the spriest bunch of academics around, even in 1978. There isn't much in London for me to go back _to_ , I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry, Walt." Barbara covered his hand with hers.

Walter gave a rueful chuckle. “The students I was teaching when I was kidnapped are older than I am, now. The world has changed so much since I left it, so much has happened. How am I ever going to catch up?”

"I did mean it when I said you could stay with us as long as you like," Barbara said, pulling five forks and a serving knife out of the utensil drawer. "We can help get you up to speed. You could start a new life, here in Arcadia, if you wanted to."

"I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality, Barbara. After all, you are the reason I'm here at all, sitting in your house in Arcadia, and not in Avalon. You've already done so much."

Barbara shook her head. "You wouldn't be imposing, Walt. I really like spending time with you. And I wouldn't have been able to defeat the Pale Lady without you either."

Walter smiled faintly. "Well, we can discuss it more after your son has had his birthday cake."

"Jim! Toby! Nomura! Time for cake!" Barbara called.

Barbara hefted the cake up and Walter flipped the lights off in the kitchen and dining room. Barbara carefully carried the cake to the dining room table as Jim, Toby and Nomura sat down, Jim seated at the head of the table.

" _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Ji-im, happy birthday to you_ ," they sang as Barbara placed the cake down in front of Jim.

She moved behind her son, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Make a wish, kiddo," she said quietly.

Jim stared at the candles. He glanced up at Barbara, and then at Toby, Nomura and Walter seated around him, his eyes wide. He grinned widely.

With a quick breath, he blew out all seven candles.


	8. Chapter 8

Toby had gone back to his house after dinner, leaving Barbara and Jim with the two former trolls. Barbara had put on the first Indiana Jones movie, 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' and one of Jim's favorites, even if he had to cover his eyes when the Ark was opened at the end. Walter had never seen it before, while Nomura had apparently seen it one too many times. ("I was a history major," she'd said before heading upstairs. "I can recite the entire movie word for word.") Walter and Barbara sat on either side of Jim, an empty popcorn bowl in his lap.

Jim's head began to droop as the Ark's crate was wheeled into a government warehouse and the credits began to roll. Barbara brushed the hair from his forehead. “Looks like it's time for bed, kiddo.”

“Not sleepy,” Jim mumbled into Walter's sleeve, his eyes almost shut.

“I'll read to you,” Barbara offered. “Whatever you want.” Which typically meant 'Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie'. Jim had a sizable collection of classic children's literature in his room – some gifts from family and friends, others were hand-me-downs from Barbara's childhood. But the bedtime story he loved the most was a silly book about a cartoon hamster and his village of hamster friends who liked to do the Happy Hamster Hop.

Jim grinned, handing Walter the empty bowl. "Okay," he quickly agreed and then dashed up the stairs.

Barbara glanced at Walter, resting her hands on his his knee for a moment. "I'll be back in a few."

"I'll be here," promised Walter as she stood up and went to her son's bedroom.

After Jim had changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, he carefully selected a green hardcover book from the shelf in his room, presenting it to Barbara.

“'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz', huh?” said Barbara, taking the book. “No 'Hamster Huey' tonight?”

“Nope,” said Jim, climbing into his bed with his new Gun Robot toy. "I guess after everything that happened today, I want to hear a story about someone defeating a wicked witch."

Smiling, Barbara opened the book, settling down next to Jim. Jim snuggled against her side as Barbara looped her arm behind Jim's back, holding the book in front of them so Jim would see the illustrations. “'Chapter one: The Cyclone. Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies...'” Barbara began.

* * *

'”At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it; and Toto followed and lay down beside her. In spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep,'” said Barbara, reaching the end of the first chapter. She looked down at her son.

Jim's eyes were closed, his arms loosely wrapped across Gun Robot. Smiling to herself, Barbara shut the book, placing it on the nightstand next to Jim's bed. She flicked the lamp off, slowly standing up. As quietly as she could, she moved to the open door.

"Sweet dreams, kiddo," she said quietly as she closed the bedroom door.

Nomura was sprawled across Barbara's bed, snoring, when Barbara came in to get her own pajamas from her chest of drawers. Nomura was still in her purple dress, one of her boots on the floor and the other dangling halfway off her foot. After a moment Barabra pulled out a spare set of pajamas and left them on top of the chest in case Nomura woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to change out of her dress. Realizing that Walter would also need something to sleep in, she sighed and opened the door to her closet.

In the very back of her closet, hidden underneath her winter bedspread and spare pillows, was The Box. Barbara was not proud that she still had The Box instead of donating its contents to the local Goodwill like she'd promised herself she'd do after the divorce was finalized. She opened the flaps of the cardboard box, looking at the clothes and other items her ex-husband hadn't taken with him when he'd left two years ago. She pulled out an old pair of grey sweatpants – a little too big for Walter, but they'd do – and a black t-shirt that was also a size too large for Walter. 'I SURVIVED THE EL DIABLO TACO TRUCK' was emblazoned across the front of the shirt, above the faded image of a smiling skull and a taco wrapped in paper. She'd washed all the clothes before putting them into The Box, but they still smelled faintly of him.

After changing into her own polka-dot pajamas, she came downstairs again to find Walter still on the sofa, reading one of the books from the shelves in her living room.

Barbara sighed, settling down on the sofa next to Walter. “Jim and Nomura are asleep,” she said. Remembering the clothes she'd dug out for him, she held them out. “For you. Unless you want to sleep in the turtleneck.”

Walter smiled at her, a corner of his mouth quirking up. It was an expression she'd seen on his troll face frequently. “Not particularly, no.” He took the shirt and sweatpants, heading to the bathroom upstairs.

Barbara waited while Walter got ready for bed, looking at the book Walter had pulled from the shelf. It was her copy of T.H. White's 'The Once and Future King', open to the second part, 'The Queen of Air and Darkness'.

Something loudly clattered to the tiled floor of the bathroom upstairs.

“Walter?” Barbara called quietly, not wanting to disturb Jim or Nomura. She approached the bottom of the stairs. “Walter?” she repeated more worriedly when he didn't answer.

The bathroom door was open when Barbara reached the top of the stairs. Walter was wearing the shirt and sweatpants, staring at the reflection of his eyes in the mirror over the sink. The plastic cup and toothbrush she'd given to him were on the floor, where he'd apparently dropped them. “Walt? Are you okay?” she said again as she drew closer to the bathroom's door.

“My eyes are green,” he said plaintively, still staring into the mirror as Barbara slipped in beside him. “They were brown before.”

“Oh,” said Barbara. Not knowing what to say, she pressed her hand against his. “Maybe it's just a side effect,” she offered.

Walter sighed, tearing his gaze away from the mirror. “Side effect?” he repeated.

“Well, yes. You spent a really long time turned into a troll, Walt. How did you figure, a couple hundred years in Avalon? Maybe there's some magic still left in you.”

An expression Barbara couldn't quite read crossed Walter's face. “If that's true, do you think...I could change between troll and human?”

“I guess it's possible," said Barbara. "You'd probably know more about that than I would, considering I didn't even know magic was a thing until this afternoon.”

"Then let's see..." He shut his eyes, his eyebrowns knitting together in concentration. When he opened them again, his eyes had changed. The white sclera had turned yellow and the iris of his eye was blood-red, glowing faintly - a cross between his human and troll eyes.

“Stand back,” he rasped.

Barbara moved away from Walter as his body was surrounded by bolts of green light, the sound of electricity crackling around him making the hairs on Barbara's neck stand on end.

She caught a glimpse of Walter the green-skinned troll standing in her bathroom, his large wings slapping against the shower curtain behind him, before he flashed green again and returned to his human body.

"I actually wasn't expecting that to work,” said Walter after a moment of stunned silence. 

“If you can switch between troll and human, does that mean Nomura and Jim can too?” said Barbara. Nomura's eyes were almost unnaturally green, identical to the color of her eyes as a troll - but Jim's eyes were the same blue they'd always been.

“If we're correct in assuming this is a side effect of so many years in Avalon under the Pale Lady's spell, Nomura _might_ be able to change – it was about forty years for her, subjectively. I'm not sure about your son. He wasn't a troll for very long compared to myself and Nomura.” He heaved a sigh and frowned, running a hand through his hair. “There's a lot I don't know about Fae magic.”

“Come back downstairs, Walt,” said Barbara, tugging lightly on his hand. “I'll put on some water for tea.”

Walter smiled. “You certainly know the quickest way to an Englishman's heart, Barbara.”

* * *

In the kitchen, Barbara filled the tea kettle with water from the faucet and put it on the stove to boil. 

Walter had settled back on the sofa, putting the brown suit and turtleneck he had been wearing before on the coffee table. It was strange seeing him in her ex-husband's castoffs – even if they had been the right size, a ratty old t-shirt and sweats didn't really suit him.

Barbara came out of the kitchen, sitting next to Walter on the sofa. “It's going to take a few minutes for the water to boil,” she said.

“Oh, I don't mind. It's been a long time since I've had tea, I can wait a few more minutes,” said Walter. He sat back against the sofa and sighed. “It's funny. There are so many things I should be thinking about now that I've returned from Avalon and yet the first that came to mind was wondering what became of my Teasmade after I disappeared. One of the other professors probably filched it. I bet it was Scaarbach.”

Barbara snorted. “Your Teas-what?”

“My Teasmade. It was an alarm clock and electric tea kettle,” said Walter. “It went on your nightstand and it'd boil water before the alarm went off so you could have a nice cup of tea in bed right when you woke up.”

“That sounds extremely British,” said Barbara.

Walter chuckled. “Well, you're not wrong.”

Barbara nudged herself closer to Walter, laying her head on his shoulder. She hadn't known him for very long, not even a full day yet, but after everything that had happened in Avalon, there was no question that she trusted him with her life. They had fought and defeated the Pale Lady together, and brought her son back home. Now, sitting next to him on her sofa felt _right_ , like Walter was supposed to be by her side.

Walter's hand found hers, entwining their fingers together.

"So, how was your first day in the twenty-first century?" said Barbara, looking up through her eyelashes at Walter.

"I think just being human again is going to be a bit of an adjustment for me," admitted Walter. "Let alone the future shock. When I was taken, VHS tapes were still a new innovation. Watching movies played back on little silver discs read by lasers feels like I wandered into an episode of 'Star Trek'."

"Well, a few decades of advancing technology has its perks," said Barbara with a sly grin, standing up. She held a hand out to Walter. "I can show you one, if you'd like."

Puzzled, Walter placed his hand in hers, letting her pull him up to his feet. Leading him to the empty space of the foyer, she pulled her old iPod from the pocket of her pajamas pants with a pair of earbuds. She placed one bud in Walter's ear and the other in hers.

"What is t--?" Walter began, staring at the iPod.

"It's a surprise," said Barbara, careful to not let Walter see the iPod's screen. Selecting a song using the iPod's clickwheel, she smiled up at him and then pressed the middle button. The blare of sound from the earbud gave Walter a slight start.

" _If you said goodbye to me tonight, there would still be music left to write.._."

Walter let out of soft chuckle as he realized who was singing. "Billy Joel?"

Barbara nodded, slipping the iPod back into her pocket. "From one of his albums I guarantee you don't have." She placed one of her hands on Walter's shoulder, letting her head rest on his chest, feeling his heart beat. Walter's hands settled lightly at her waist, drawing them even closer together.

" _Once I thought my innocence was gone, now I know that happiness goes on..._ "

"Barbara..." Walter said softly, lowering his head. His breath ghosted across the skin of her neck, a delicious shiver running down her spine. Walter's green eyes shining in the low light had nothing to do with any kind of lingering magic.

" _That's where you found me, when you put your arms around me - I haven't been there for the longest time..._ "

Barbara closed her eyes as their lips came together. His human lips were much softer than the stony skin of a troll. Almost on its own, one of her hands carding through Walter's hair while the other tugged off her glasses, letting them drop onto the table next to the stairs. Walter reached up, cradling her face tenderly. Every touch seemed to send a thrill through her.

" _I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall, and the greatest miracle of all, is how I need you - and how you needed me too. That hasn't happened for the longest time._ "

Pulling her head slightly back from Walter, Barbara rested her forehead against his, feeling her own heart race inside her chest. Billy Joel continued to sing, but she was no longer listening to the song as Walter began to speak.

"I think I love you, Doctor Lake," he whispered to her, his voice low.

Barbara smiled, her heart soaring like she was about to float away. "And I love you too, Professor Strickler."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extended break. I've been working on this since the last chapter went up in December. I have so many false starts and paths that went in a different direction that I didn't like, it's not even funny...
> 
> Digital cookies to whoever catches the 'Calvin and Hobbes' reference.
> 
> Yes, Teasmades are real, they were around in the '70s, and they're still being produced to this day. I first heard about them from [this](https://youtu.be/bij-JjzCa7o) video by Tom Scott, and it seemed like something Walter in this story might've had.
> 
> The song Barbara and Walter listen to is ['The Longest Time', by Billy Joel](https://youtu.be/JUl4kxTfzKE). It's from the 'An Innocent Man' album, which was released about five years after Walter would've been abducted.
> 
> "But what about Angor Rot?" I hear you cry. "You said Angor would be in this!" Well, I'd intended to have him in this chapter, and up until last night he _was_ in this chapter, but putting him in here took away from wrapping up Walter and Barbara's part of the story, so he's getting an extra little bonus chapter that should, hopefully, be up in two weeks. c:


	9. Epilogue: The Tragic Tale of Angor Rot

Angor Rot slowly opened his eye.

The woods surrounding him were not her woods, not one of perpetual twilight. The sun was out, and he was protected from its deadly light by the leaves of the trees above him. He was lying in a pile of downed branches, the trunk next to him splintered as if it had been struck by lightening.

He slowly sat up. A few feet away from him, a young doe froze in her tracks. Angor stared at the deer before it turned around and bounded away from him.

Using one of the downed branches to shield himself from any stray rays of sunlight, Angor held it over his head like an umbrella.

He was out of Avalon. For the first time in a long, long time, he did not feel her presence inside his head, twisting his thoughts and actions. She had been at the peak of her magic when he had sought out her help to save his village, the spell she had cast over him with to compel his obedience had been very strong. He felt its loss almost as keenly as the arm Stricklander had carved off.

Had the human woman and Stricklander actually defeated the Pale Lady? It sounded impossible, but together they were more formidable than he'd thought. His missing arm was proof at how badly he'd underestimated them. But here he was, back on Earth for the first time in over a thousand years, no longer trapped in the Shadow Realm, and free of the Pale Lady's control.

The last image he'd seen out of his missing eye had been the Pale Lady throwing it towards the human woman, and then everything had gone black. Muffled voices he'd heard after that had been the only sign that his eye was still in one piece, but he didn't know what had happened to it.

Angor reached out for his missing eye, not with his hand but with his mind.

The human woman – Barbara Lake – was in a kitchen next to her now-human son and another young human boy. Barbara Lake noticed his eye start to move and placed a heavy glass cup on top of it. Snarling, he spun his eye around inside the cup, but it didn't budge.

A moment later, Stricklander and Nomura came into view of his eye, but as the humans they'd been before the Pale Lady had stolen them from their homes and turned them into trolls. Stricklander was holding his _Skathe-Hrün_.

Angor slowly stood up, a low growl forcing itself from his throat. The changeling had no right to the _Skathe-Hrün_! It belonged to _him_.

And as quickly as his anger came, it was gone. The Pale Lady had forced him to fight against the Lake woman and Stricklander and he'd lost one arm. He had no desire to lose his other one to them by storming the dwelling in a blind fury.

Truthfully, he had very little desire to take back the _Skathe-Hrün_. It had been given to him by the Lady to carry out her will. Even if its magic still worked with the Pale Lady dead, the staff was tainted by her. It was probably safer to destroy it.

But he _needed_ his eye.

* * *

Angor waited until night fell before venturing out from the protection of the woods. There was a small pull towards his eye, a thin thread he could follow from the woods to where his eye was being held.

It led him to a small dwelling, less opulent than the Pale Lady's castle but more permanent than the thatched huts he barely remembered the humans living in when he'd sought out the Pale Lady. He silently creeped around the perimeter of the house, sticking to cover whenever he could. All the windows were dark. Everyone inside was fast asleep.

He peered through one window, looking into the same kitchen he'd seen earlier. He cast his sight to his missing eye, and smiled when it swiveled around to face him from one of the counters, still covered by the glass.

The lock on the house's back door proved easy enough for his own magic to undo. The door quietly swung open into the darkened kitchen. He lowered his head to fit through the doorframe, fixated on his eye sitting on the counter.

“You know, it's very rude to just barge into someone's house uninvited,” came a very familiar voice.

Angor snarled, taking a step back.

Stricklander's human eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, glaring at him from the sofa in the living room. Despite his human form, there was still troll in him. An electric lamp turned on next to the sofa, revealing Barbara curled next to him, a blanket hanging off of her shoulders. Putting her glasses on her nose, she crossed her arms over her chest.

Angor eased himself into a defensive crouch with a low growl.

“Why are you here, Angor?” said Barbara.

“Stricklander cut off my arm. At least let me take back my eye,” snarled Angor.

Stricklander and Barbara glanced at each other. To Angor's surprise, Stricklander's expression was the one to soften. “He was a victim of the Pale Lady as well. One of the first, back in the Middle Ages,” he said to the human woman. “And I had no particular issues with him before today.”

“Were the two of you friends in Avalon?” asked Barbara with a curious expression.

Angor barked out a laugh, drawing their attention back to him. “No, not friends,” said Angor. “The Lady did not want conflicting loyalties between her assassin and the other trolls in Avalon. She turned my mind away from seeking out friendship.”

“So you were alone and brainwashed for over a thousand years, Earth-time?” said Barbara slowly, a dawning look of dismay on her face.

“The two changelings and your son did not bear the brunt of her magical power,” said Angor. “They were taken at a time when her power was fading. While she could change their forms, she did not have a lasting hold on their minds like she did with mine.”

The living room was silent for a moment.

“And now the Pale Lady's dead,” said Stricklander, not unkindly. “And you don't know what to do with yourself.”

Angor opened his mouth to protest, but realized there was nothing to protest. Stricklander was right. Once he had retrieved his eye, what would he do? Where would we go? His village was gone, razed from the earth by Gunmar. Everyone who he'd ever cared for was long dead.

Stricklander stood up from the sofa. He walked to the counter with the glass on it, lifting the glass up and taking Angor's eye. He held out his hand to Angor, placing the eye in the middle of Angor's palm.

As Angor slid the eye back into his empty socket, Stricklander continued to talk. “I believe the reason that the Pale Lady took so many of this town's children was because she was able to siphon a little of the magic from a nearby Heartstone to help power her spell to pierce the Veil.”

Angor's eyes widened as the implications of what Stricklander had said sunk in. “You cannot mean...”

Stricklander nodded. “Where there's a Heartstone, there most likely is a Trollmarket, hidden somewhere beneath Arcadia,” he said.

“A troll...market?” said Barbara. “As in, a market for trolls? There are _more_   _trolls_ living under my town and I had no idea?”

“Probably, yes. But I have no idea where it would be located,” said Stricklander. “Or where you could find the entrance.”

Barbara groaned, leaning back against the sofa. “I think I do.”

* * *

Angor carefully examined the small map Barbara had hastily drawn of the town, showing the main roads of Arcadia Oaks.

As she'd explained, a canal ran through the middle of the town, and a steel bridge spanned across the canal at one point so the humans could drive their little metal cars over it. If this place did have an active Trollmarket, the entrance would probably be located underneath the bridge.

“Trolls and bridges,” the human woman had said when she'd given him the map. “All that's missing are the three billy goats.”

As he drew closer to the bridge, he felt something in his chest, something warm. A Heartstone.

His kind of troll did not need a Heartstone to survive, but they needed them to truly thrive. Trapped in Avalon, he had not felt the bright glow of a Heartstone in so long...

Angor began to run towards the bridge, skidding down the sides of the canal until he was underneath the bridge.

He went to where the pull of the Heartstone felt the strongest, examining the stone wall. If this Trollmarket was similar to the one that had existed near his village, he needed a horngazel to enter. Or he'd have to wait until one of the residents of the Trollmarket opened the portal from their side.

 _If_ there was a Trollmarket. It was entirely possible that trolls had never reached this Heartstone, and that there was no Trollmarket here, and he was waiting for something that would never happen.

Angor raised his fist and smashed it against the concrete. “Let me in!” he shouted, pounding at the wall again. “Let me in!”

There were a dozen marks in the concrete wall when Angor stopped, panting as he waited for some sign that his pleas had been heard.

The wall began to crack, blue light leaking through the fissures. Angor took a step back, drawing his knife as pieces of the concrete wall floated up.

Two trolls were standing on the other side of the portal. One was a large, pale elderly troll with ram-like horns. By his side was a blue troll encased in silvery armor, wielding a large sword. An amulet embedded in the armor's chestplate glowed faintly.

All trolls knew the amulet and armor of Merlin's champion, even if Angor did not know the troll now wearing it. “Elder. Trollhunter,” said Angor stiffly, placing his dagger back into its sheath.

“Please tell us why you are banging on the portal in the middle of the night, stranger,” groused the elderly troll, leaning heavily on a walking stick carved from a large chunk of glowing Heartstone.

"Vendel. Hold on." The Trollhunter lowered his sword, approaching Angor. “I hope you do not mind my saying this, but you appear to be in somewhat rough shape, friend. What is your name?”

“I am Angor Rot. And I have nowhere else to go.”

“Angor Rot?” exclaimed a third troll with six eyes and four arms, who wedged himself between the first two trolls. “Named for the great troll who fought single-handedly against Gunmar's forces to save his village, no doubt! A very interesting name for a troll to bear! Most trolls are sadly unfamiliar with the tragic tale of Angor Rot.”

Angor did not hear one word the troll said, instead staring at his face in horror. He could never escape Avalon, could he? “Dictatious?” he said, taking a step back. “But...I...”

Dictatious Galadrigal had been one of Angor's first kills once the Pale Lady had brought the Gumm-Gumms to Avalon. The Pale Lady had grown annoyed with Dictatious very quickly, once it became obvious that Dictatious was not nearly as intelligent as he seemed to think he was. She had ordered Angor to kill Dictatious, or she would do it herself. Angor had stabbed him with his knife, laced with enough Creeper's Sun to make the petrification nearly instantaneous–at the time, he had told himself it was a kinder death than whatever one the Pale Lady would have thought up for poor Dictatious.

The troll stared at him with all six of his eyes wide before letting out a tight chuckle. “Dictatious was my brother, although I can see why you might mistake me for him. There is a certain family resemblance, isn't there? No, I am Blinkous Galadrigal. I assume you were acquainted with my brother before his disappearance?”

“I...” Angor began, and then stopped. He hadn't felt ashamed of his actions in centuries – the Pale Lady's magic had slowly worn away the edges of sorrow and guilt in his mind, leaving a remorseless, skilled assassin behind. With her gone, the weight of what he'd done to Dictatious and countless other Gumm-Gumms and changelings felt crushing. 

An awkward silence fell between the trolls.

“Come inside, friend,” said the Trollhunter, the sword vanishing from his hand and reappearing on his back. “I am Kanjigar, the Trollhunter. The Elder is Vendel, and Blinky has already introduced himself.” He stepped aside, allowing Angor to see the glowing crystal steps leading down to Trollmarket.

“You must tell us of your travels, Angor!” said Blinkous, laying one of his hands on Angor's arm. “It's been centuries since most of the trolls in Trollmarket have ventured out farther than the reach of the Heartstone.”

“Yes,” said Angor as the trolls began to lead him through the portal and down the steps, into Trollmarket. “And I do have many tales to tell...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I do have an few ideas floating around for a potential sequel (and/or maybe a prequel), but nothing concrete yet.
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who subscribed, left kudos and/or comments along the way! Knowing that people actually liked my fic and wanted to read more really did help push me to polish the story up. This is a very different (and much better) beast than the one I had drafted when I posted the first chapter back in September. You're all amazing. <3


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